


The Blackest of Black

by TheDenishWriter



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Amandum - Soulmates, Bucky Barnes & Steve Rogers Friendship, Eventual Happy Ending, Hate to Love, Humor, Jotunn | Frost Giant, Jötunheimr | Jotunheim, M/M, Mpreg, Nick Fury is Not Amused, Possessive Loki, Protective Avengers, Protective Bucky Barnes, Rape/Non-con Elements, SHIELD still exists, Thor Is a Good Bro, frostshield - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-19
Updated: 2017-12-31
Packaged: 2018-02-13 20:33:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 11
Words: 21,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2164260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheDenishWriter/pseuds/TheDenishWriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve has a problem. No, more than one; a flame from the past might soon get to him at last, while his teammates wont leave him alone.<br/>It's not easy to be Steve Rogers...</p><p>This fic contains MALE x MALE, if you don't fancy that, then I do not force you into reading it. </p><p>Contains an OC, but don't let that frighten you, read and review, and I hope you like it ^^</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Long ago

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic, so I hope it ain't completely hopeless to understand the plot. The paring (I guess it already stands somewhere) is LokixSteve Rogers, also called FrostShield if I'm not mistaken? I hope you like the story, and if you do/don't then please let me know what to do, so I can make it even better! Enjoy ^^ 
> 
> (THE SAME STORY IS POSTED ON FANFIC . NET, SO IF YOU'VE SEEN IT BEFORE, THEN I DIDN'T STEAL IT!! TheWrither'sNote is me too)
> 
> I don't own the characters, Marvel does, but I did use my imagination into forming the plot of this fic ^^

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have been doing some editing, to try and remove some of my many misspellings and other errors, but the overall piece won't be changed much. It might be an idea to read it all from the top, but it won't be necessary.
> 
> The other chapters haven't been edited yet, but when they are I will "mark" them with an 'x' in the notes.

He ran faster than most men could imagine, still his breath was steady. The breeze of nighttime was relaxing on his face, and kept him going. He had to get away now, before-

“Steve! Steve, is that you? Stop!” 

-Damn it! The voice, far too familiar, belonged to no other than the infamous Anthony Stark. But right now, he wasn’t the usual playboy that he was known to be. He was Ironman on duty in the dirtiest parts of New York. A place Tony hated more than Nick Fury on a Monday morning, but he had to keep looking. Maybe tonight he would finally get him back home?

Steve ignored Tony and continued ahead. He had no desire of talking to him or any of his former teammates. Not right now or anytime soon. 

This night hadn’t been much different than most, but this time some flying smartass saw him. It wasn’t like Steve had done anything wrong.

In fact the opposite. An apartment building had caught fire and because it was the cheap part of town, no one expected help for at least half an hour. Steve had tried to keep away, he really had, but in the end his strong sense of justice and need to help others when nobody else did, took over.

When he was done getting the shocked people out of their former home, he heard a fire truck in the distance. Slowly, so that on one noticed, he simply walked away. He had a special someone waiting at home, and God did he need sleep…

That was when the noise caught his ear. The sound of something racing through the air, like a small jet or an airplane. Steve knew better than to believe that, and began speeding up a little. Tony called him out, and he gave it his all to keep going unnoticed. 

When he finally stepped inside his rundown-flat, locking it securely after himself, he sighed heavily and leaned his full weight against the door. 

This time, it had been close. Far to close. Tony had nearly caught up with him, more times than he liked to count. He held the tears back, and tried to focus. 

It had been so tempting to just stop and let Tony get to him. To talk back, explain why he had kept his distance for so long. He couldn’t. How in the world did you explain THAT, without sounding like a total maniac? Until he could get a better explanation himself, he just had to leave the Avengers alone. 

He missed his friends terribly, but what choice did he have? He ran his fingers through his golden locks. Damn it. 

The quiet sound of blankets being removed got his attention back on track. He slowly went into the living room. On the worn out sofa a small face looked right back at him, eyes blue as the sky, much like his own. The pitch black hair like the darkest of night, just before the sun rose for another day. 

“Hey Da. Morni now?” –a groggy voice asked, and the little boy rubbed his eyes sleepily. 

Steve couldn’t help but smile. The only thing saving his sanity for the last couple of years, had been him.

It always would be. He stretched his fingers and nuzzled the toddler’s wild hair. 

“No, not yet. Just go back to bed, Lucas, okay? I’ll be here when you wake up.”

Lucas looked doubtful at him, and pouted. 

“Promisssess?” 

“Yeah. I promise.” 

Lucas still looked suspicious, but did as he was told and laid back down. 

Steve sat down in the only armchair in the room, too tired to sleep. Instead he recalled how he ended up like this; in a rundown apartment smelling like an alleyway, with a boy barely 2-years old, hiding from all and everything he knew. 

 

\--

 

It had been just before his mission. The mission, just a few days before he fought Red Skull, before he forced the Valkyrie into the ice and… and… 

Well, it had been a great day. A warm one. His friends all celebrated that they just needed to destroy the final headquarter of Hydra for it all to be over and done with and, hopefully, end the war. They had all been out late to celebrate with dancing and drinking, all except him. 

Steve sat for himself, all alone, not wanting to be found in an old tavern utterly destroyed by a bomb, they had been too late to stop. They had been there before. Then, the walls had echoed of the music and laughter from the occupants in the room. Bucky had been there, so had the rest of the crew. It had been the day the Howling Commandos first came together. The same night Pecky turned up out of the blue, wearing the most stunning red dress, easily capturing the attention of all the guys present. If someone else had taken a look at the tavern now and compared it to that of Steve's memories, they wouldn't be able to reconize it as one at the same. Hell, without his remembrance of this place, Steve likely wouldn't either. Now, glass and bricks lay all over the floor; no one had maid any attempt at cleaning the mess yet. 

He starred irritatedly at his glass of lukewarm beer, while sitting on the only unscratched chair left. 

It wasn’t fair. He had lost his best friend, Bucky, and he couldn’t even drink himself under to forget about it, not even for a second. Damn serum… He had taken a shot anyway, of course, it didn’t work. It had only emptied his pocket a little more. Not that it helped him to sit here and feel sorry for himself, Bucky wouldn’t have appreciated that either.

He had just decided to get back to base and get some much needed sleep,-the last mission to make an end of Red Skull tomorrow would require all his focus-, when he felt slightly dizzy. Funny, he thought. Is it an after effect of the alcohol, or…? He tried to sit up which proved more problematic than expected… (he almost fell to the floor, only his dulled reflexes keeping him upright) What was happening to him?

He didn’t have to wait for long to get the answer. 

Firm steps from the former entrance could be heard. Steve’s head swayed to the side to fet a better view of who was coming, -not that it helped much-, his gaze was getting fuzzy. 

It was not someone he knew, that much was clear. Whoever it was wore a uniform unlike anything he had seen out on the field, mostly cladded in black, glod and green. The skin was pale, the hair the darkest shade of black Steve had ever laid his eye upon. The figure was tall, and with elegant almost lazy steps the slender body, definitely male, approached him. 

Now, the stranger only a few meters away, he could see the green orbs looking right back at him. The stare so intense Steve feared it would burn a hole straight through his chest. 

“Good afternoon Steven Rogers, or do you prefer Captain of America?” The voice was unique, unlike anything Steve had heard before. 

The male looked young, maybe in his late twenties, but he sounded a lot older. Wiser. The smirk on his face told you that he knew something you didn’t, and it made a shiver run down Steve’s spine out of discomfort. 

“How do you know my name?”

The stranger chuckled and kneeled down in front of Steve. He tried to move away but found that he couldn’t. His entire body denied him the power of moving of his own free will, he couldn’t even look away from the stranger if he wanted to; the stranger's gaze was too strong. 

“Who doesn’t? The rigtheous Captain America, protector of the less fortunate souls of this realm. The Soldier.” The tone of the man in front of him sounded mocking. As if he was telling a bad joke. 

Steve finally broke free from the stare, only to have the stranger grabbing his chin and forcing it back. 

“Don’t”, he warned. No threats was necessary, the danger lay in that word alone. The charming smile from a second ago was long gone, his thin lips forming a barely visible line. 

He removed his smooth fingers, leaving Steve with a feeling of ice sinking into his skin where the stranger had touched him. 

“What are you?”-Steve spat, glaring daggers into the chest of the man. The stranger smirked again, as if the situation amused him. 

“Don’t you worry yourself with details like that. You’ll know soon enough.” 

The stranger raised his right hand and pointed at Steve’s forehead. Steve looked confused at him, where after the man began mumbling something strange. To Steve it sounded like utter gibberish, but at the same time ancient and meaningful. Not that it made sense, but that was what he thought afterwards when thinking back at it. 

After that, everything went into complete darkness, and he only remembered fragments about what happened that day; the strangers surprisingly muscular arms wrapped around his waist, his voice, his demanding eyes and deceiving lips. Hands touching… where they definitely shouldn’t be touching! 

He woke up in his own bed back at the headquarters, alone. He didn’t hurt anywhere. The serum, making his body heal faster than any regular man, made sure of that, but he felt broken somehow. As if something dear had been taking away from him by force. Something he didn’t know he had, and he now felt vulnerable without.

His day went on in a haze after that, and when Steve looked back everything came to him in glimpses. 

Invading the last Hydra base, fighting Johann Schmidt/Red Skull, the blue cube of pure energy melting and then disappearing through the metal structure of plane, his last words to Peggy… The crash… 

Anyhow, he remembered waking up in a place looking just like a hospital room, but he knew it wasn’t. The radio beside the bed was on, and a raspy voice reported about an ongoing baseball championship. A match he had been at... The realization of being in the 21th century hit him like a train. It had all been so surrealistic the first couple of weeks. 

Nick Fury quickly convinced him to keep on fighting for the good course of protecting Earth, his home. And so he did. But not alone. 

On the road he meet the mysterious ‘Natasha Romanov’, a professional Russian assassin, and good looks along with her crimson shoulder-length hair. Clint Barton aka Hawkeye, the best archer Steve knew, and a true genius. Bruce Banner, the Hulk. A surprisingly nice guy despite what most people thought, but being the complicated person that he was, Steve hadn’t talked much to him. And then there was one Anthony Stark… Did he even have to explain himself? Steve could be naïve sometimes, but when it came to Tony… That guy seriously knew just now to truly piss Steve off. He was rich, and used a lot of his time bragging about being a clever playboy. He was a good man deep down, but it was often hard to get it dragged into the light for ordinary men to see. (Almost as if being friendly damaged his image or something…) Thor… Well Thor being Thor, was close to being a fitting description of the Asgardian prince. Polite, a little straight forward, aggressive at times but his intentions were for the best of mankind. Always. 

Then that guy turned up out of the blue. He, the only one he had been relieved to leave in the 20th century, now stood there in front of him. The one who still haunted his dreams almost every damn night. 

Not one word was able to describe how he felt, but several came close enough; shock, sadness, discomfort, fear, angrt, longing, confusion, painfulness… His insides were an utter mess, so he locked it away in himself as best as he could. 

The Asgardian, Thor’s brother Loki, didn’t say anything about the incidence, just smiled that creepy smile of his. Constantly. 

Steve had to use all of his self-control not to march right up in front of him, and demand some long deserved answers. It would only make the others ask questions that he by no means wanted to give the answers to.

After the Avengers, and himself too, learned to do some real teamwork New York was safe once more, Thor caught Loki. 

They kept him in custody for a night before Thor would return him to Asgard for a proper punishment. No one was permitted to visit him until then. 

Steve had done it anyway, naturally. How could he not? 

Loki had been sitting on a flat bed attached to the wall with his arms crossed, looking altogether bored when Steve approached him. He didn’t even flinch. 

Steve had taken his time to get things right to make sure he wouldn’t mess this up, so he talked slowly and precise, hoping it would help. When he felt like he had said what he needed to say, he waited for Loki’s reply... Which never seemed to come.

He tried to keep his calm. Maybe the Asgardian hadn’t heard him. Maybe the force field in-between them absorbed some of the noise? 

He began over again, louder this time, but it gave the same frustrating result, -or lack thereof. 

In the end Steve got agitated. 

“You..! Why can’t you just answer me? All I want is to understand why and then I swear to leave you alone. I won't mention it ever again, if you just tell me why. Tell me!” Just before Steve closed the doors behind him, he heard a soft chuckle. If he had been unsure whether or not Loki had been the guy from that day, then he wasn’t afterwards. 

“What a compliment it is to know that you missed me so much. Did I really make you feel that good, dear captain?”


	2. Realization

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a certain experience in the past (which seems determined on him not forgetting), Captain America has to make some fast decisions. Some, which aren't chosen so easily...

Steve had left Loki alone in the room with burning cheeks and a wild heart. It had been unbearable. He barely knew what had happened, and now Loki mocked him about it?

Loki had been safely sent back to Asgard with Thor the following day. Bound in chains and with a metal-device covering his mouth, Loki gave Steve a last stare, then… He was gone. And so was Thor.

Thinking it over, that had been his last time seeing Thor as well (then again, Thor had been the only one to notice his slightly changed behavior around Loki, so maybe that wasn’t so bad…).

Since then things had went on as you could expect: bad guys trying to take over New York (or the world in general) but all failing against the Avengers.

Then it happened.

The Winter Soldier showed up. No one knew who he was, except he wasn’t amongst the ones saving the day… He was mysterious and only showed up rarely. They had so far been incapable of stopping him.

More than once had Steve heard his teammate’s report of fights against him, but whoever fought him never won. Barely even slowed him down.

It was one of those rare times where you heard Natasha swear; _that son of a.._! So it had to be bad.

While Steve sat on a café in front of the Stark Tower, (as Tony called it, the rest insisted on the Avengers Tower. If it was to irritate Tony or that they simply liked it better than Stark Tower, Steve was unsure…) something caught his notice.

He was enjoying the sun and his coffee, when a feeling told him to move. _Now!_ Being the only one outside the comfy shop that evening he jumped away from the table with ease. With no danger in sight, and he shook his head while frowning at himself.

- _That’s overdoing it a little Steve, it was properly noth_ -

 **BANG**! The leftovers of a Toyota Carina now landed where he had been sitting just seconds ago.

_-Okay… Maybe you DIDN’T overreact after all!_

Steve looked behind himself to see a man, completely dressed in black, run against him. His left arm was shining silvery in the sunlight while in the right he held a machinegun.

Steve didn’t have time to think over why the guy, he guessed it to be the rumored Winter Soldier, didn’t just try and shoot him, (why was it that he had left his shield at the tower again?) before he was tackled frontally.

His opponent was surprisingly strong. In no time the Soldier was over him, hitting his face and chest.

Steve, momentarily paralyzed by the strength in the punches he received, didn’t act at all. Of course it hurt, but he had a feeling that his opponent was holding back.

Something glittering caught his eye just before it collided with the attacker’s metal-arm with a * _ **clunk**_ *. The force of the energy beam hitting him sent the Winter Soldier into the air, hitting a large tree on the way down.

In no time the stranger was standing, ready for round two, this time going after Steve’s savior. Looking up Steve saw Tony fly over him, make a salute, then concentrate on the Soldier shooting at him.

“You okay, Captain?” It was Natasha. She stood next to him with her perfect red hair, wearing her black suit and armed with a dangerously looking handgun.

“Yeah, I think so. Is that who I think it is?”

Both looked at the fighting metalarmed man and at the one he tried to get his revenge on. Tony stayed in the air, trying to attack his challenger from different directions and avoid getting hit himself. Not as easy as it sounds...

“If you think of the Winter Soldier, then yes.”

“What do we have on him?” With Natasha being an integrated part of SHIELD she might know something he didn’t.

Sadly she shocked her head.

“To little. He attacks members of SHIELD, but that’s about all we know as of yet. We haven't been able of pick of a pattern.”

In the meantime the favor wasn’t in it for Tony. Somehow the Winter Soldier had forced him to the ground, and he was now beating him with all he got, the punches so precise and strong that it bended the metal plates of the suit.

Steve didn’t have time to think; he just acted.

Somewhere in the background he thought he heard the Widow call his name, but if it was to stop or warn him, he didn’t know.

He attacked head first against the Winter Soldier, not caring for the consequences. If Tony didn’t get help now he would be dead in minutes.

Steve’s plan worked. Tony was now left alone, the attacker barely glanced at him.

The Soldier now focused on Steve, clearly saw him coming. With ease he grabbed him around the neck in one hand. The one of metal.

Steve gasped, forcing the air down his into lungs. The only problem was, now it was him who was in focus again.

The soldier stared coldly at him, catching him with his eyes. Steve didn’t look away, couldn't. 

"Steve."

His eyes went wide open; shock evident on his face.

-Can it be…? The grip holding him loosened a little, enough for Steve to inhale sharply. Those eyes were undoubtedly _his_ but how was that even possible? Then again, Steve himself had participated in WW2, and yet here he stood. But still…

Before he had the chance to say a word an arrow flew past his ear, aiming for the Soldier. Hitting the metal-arm made the arrow fall to the ground, not making as much as a scratch.

The Winter Soldier didn’t make any indications of wanting to move away from Steve, but he looked around cautiously. His glare was back, and on full force. Steve couldn't help but notice how the Soldier had done little to no harm against him, and he certainly had had the chance to break Steve's neck more times than Steve cared to count. Had _he_ been what he was after all along?

“Let him go. Now!” The voice of Clint Barton aka Hawkeye, sounded from somewhere behind Steve. It was said calmly but with a hint of anger. If the Winter Soldier didn’t let go of Steve, he would be shot.

Steve, still, had done nothing. He looked the man in front of him over; shoulder long brown hair. Pale skin, but nowhere as pale as the Asgardian Loki, and those blue/greyish eyes Steve had known since his earliest childhood...

There were so many things he wanted to say, wanted to ask. But he didn’t. He couldn’t. As much as relief filled him, so did guilt. Could he have done more to find him? Something, ANYTHING?! His best friend, who he had thought to be dead, stood right there in front of him, and he hadn’t known before just now?

Bucky let his hand fall, freeing Steve from his hold. His hand halfway down his pockets, when-

“Keep those hands of yours where I can see ‘em!” This time Clint made no effort in sounding nice. Quite the opposite.

In a flash of movement, Bucky threw a smoke bomb towards them, leaving as the Avengers coughed in unison.

Natasha and Clint were at Tony’s side confirming that he was indeed alive, just a little shaken up. Steve had no idea how he felt.

It was good that Tony was okay, and Bucky alive, but something felt… off. Something  _else_ felt off.

A sudden crack, an excessive agony running down his spine, _inside_ of him, made him bend over in pain. It was as if he had cramps, but he had never tried anything like this in his entire life.

“Steve, are you alright?” Natasha again. Steve forced himself to stand straight up, not caring for the grimace he most likely wore.

“Yeah.”

Natasha gave him the look, mentally saying she knew he lied, and was nowhere near convincing at it. Clint glanced from Steve to Natasha, feeling the tension between them.

“Guys we have to get Tony to the Tower, now. As much as I enjoyed seeing his ass get kicked, I don’t want Pepper’s anger on the neck. So, whatever _this_ is-", Clint said, pointing at from one to the other, "-it'll have to wait."

“I’ll take him.” Steve heard himself say automatically.

He easily lifted Tony up in his arms, armor and all, feeling the cooled metal against his skin. He had only worn a t-shirt and the sinking sun told him that had been a mistake. Neither Clint nor Natasha said a word before they reached the lab. The pain inside of Steve’s stomach steadily disappeared, overtaken by worry for the friend he held carefully in his grasp.

Bruce took one glance at Tony, and went after supplies without uttering a single word. In the meantime Clint, Steve and Natasha together got the broken suit of off Ironman. Not an easy task, but what awaited them underneath was a dreadful sight.

The few spaces where he didn’t have bruises, he had cuts (where in the world had Bucky hidden a _knife_ , or had it simply been the metal parts hurting Tony?). He was covered in blood and was blue and purple all over… But he was breathing.

Thankfully, he was.

As Bruce returned he ordered the others out, assuring them that everything would be fine, that he would tell JARVIS to let them know when Tony awoke again.

Steve quickly left for his private quarters. He wanted to sleep and didn’t even consider eating first. Then it returned; the _bumping_ inside him, this time lighter and less painful. This was insane!

He changed his mind. Maybe a little snack would help keeping his stomach more stable. An apple a day keeps the doctor away, wasn’t that what they said now a days?

 He had barely taken a bite or two, when a wave of nausea hit him square in the face. He had only just reached the toilet when he began vomiting uncontrollably.

But… He _didn’t_ get sick. Not since the serum changed him had he felt anything like it. Or, there was this _one_ time, but that had been under influence of Loki, so that didn’t…

 _Loki_! Did this have anything to do with the trickster God? If the answer was ‘yes’, Steve swore to kill him personally.

Another bump caught his attention, again from his belly.

_Okay, to resume the latest events; he had discovered that Bucky, his best friend, was alive. Check. Tony had been badly injured, but Bruce had insured that it wasn’t anything he couldn’t handle. Check again. He had felt these… jolts, and had felt sick after returning home. Was it all just a coincidence? A reaction of all that has found place for the day? Had Bucky, somehow, sprayed him with something to make him sick?_

After the pain had slowly lessened, Steve brushed his teeth and went straight to bed, deciding to go see a doctor if it hadn’t turned better in the morning.

. . .

Well, he didn’t feel better. He felt worse. His head was spinning and he had an enormous appetite. That is, when he could keep what he ate inside for more than a few minutes…

He considered his options: either ask Tony, (who had made an extraordinary recovery, and now acted as his idiotic self alas covered in bandages...) and make himself into a guinea pig, and a laughing matter for getting sick so easily.

He could go to Bruce. Steve was sure Bruce would do his best to help, really. The problem was that Bruce and Tony both practically lived in their labs, so the chance of keeping it secret from Tony was close to zero.

He could go to a local clinic, but because of all the media this time around that wouldn’t be in private either.

A thought came to him. He had seen both Clint and Pepper use these machines…Laptops was it called? Like computers at his time, just smaller and (claimed to be) less complicated. Their functions were greater and they worked better. And a hell of a lot faster!

Bruce had given Steve a quick explanation of how to use them, which went… acceptable (Except for the part where Tony had been laughing his ass of each time there was something Steve didn’t understand, or had to try over again. This caused the ‘lessons’ in modern technology to be minimized into once a week instead of thrice a week).

Steve had no excuse for delaying it any further. He possessed one of those devilish devices, so he had no need of finding one first (Not that Steve had used it even _once_ since receiving it as a ‘welcoming’ gift from Tony for moving, forced, into the Avengers Tower like the rest of the team).

Luckily it had been the same model as the one Bruce had used to teach him, so he knew how to use it somewhat.

Steve turned it on and got access for the ‘net’, uhmm… IN-ternet.

The thing Bruce called a ‘start page’, said in big letters: GOOGLE. When asked, Bruce called it a searching page; something to help answer random questions of things people wanted to know (much like Steve did at the moment...).

After spelling clumsily on the keyboard he clicked on ‘enter’, and waited to see what would happen next. A lot of references to pages involving the words stomachache and sudden nausea, popped up.

...

3 hours later Steve felt both confused and tired. Most of the information was useless, or something he already knew that it couldn’t be.

Only one thing had mostly matched on him, but it couldn’t be that either. After all, Steve was a _man_ , he could under no circumstances get…

 _Pregnant_. The word almost glowed on the screen, and yelled inside of his head. He had felt strange, but no way. No. Not possible, never.

Irritated Steve turned the computer off, and stumbled against the bathroom. His stomach acted strange again…

\--

A week later Steve hadn’t been so fast to cast of the idea of pregnancy away. In fact, it seemed like the only thing in his mind.

He wasn’t getting worse or better per say. But the bumping continued, waking him at night filled with wonder. He ate much of the same, peaches. And ONLY peaches (it seemed to be the only thing he could eat without wanting to through up constantly).

He felt tired, and his mood turned from irritated to overly happy like a carrousel (Tony had then called him a girl on her period, which had shut Steve up quite a bit).

Since seeing that article, whenever someone began a word with pr- he jumped into the air. If this continued, the others would know. And to avoid that, he had made himself a deal. If it wasn’t getting better by Sunday, then he would take one of those… tests. Even though the mere thought of it made his inner alarm scream at him.

\--

Sunday came, and as nature wanted it he didn’t feel better. He pulled on an old hoodie and sneaked out of the tower. Each second he expected one of his teammates to stand beside him, asking where he was heading. Luckily they didn’t.

He walked fast in the now familiar streets, blending into the sea of people walking alongside him. All of them were faces he didn’t know, and most likely never would.

He pushed that thought out of his head and focused on the road. He had (again with the help of that dangerous object) found a small, neutral shop which sold what he was looking for (Steve still thought it was difficult to just think the word aloud, and even now, 2 years later, he still found it easier to avoid it).

The shop didn’t lay in the better nor cheaper part of town. Right in the middle, to be exact.

The building had been painted white years ago, but seemed more yellowish now and in need of a new layer. The door, uncolored and made of oaken tree, had a metal handle and the number 23 on top of it. If the sign: _Clinic of Herbs_ , hadn’t been on top of it, then Steve most likely wouldn’t have seen it at all.

On both sides were ordinary family houses, both in the same colors, just a tiny bit bigger in size.

Taking a steady breath, Steve walked in.

The bell rang as he stumbled over the doorstep, and the receptionist looked at him from behind the disk.

She was young, barely 17 from what Steve could tell, wore a pink t-shirt and had bright ginger-orange hair. Her face was covered in freckles and she smiled comfortingly, as if she could tell from afar how unsure he felt.

“How can I help you, sir?”

Steve looked surprised at her. The name-tag on her t-shirt said Kathrine. He thought the formalities such as “sir, mister, miss and misses,” had all been frozen now and forgotten alongside him nearly 70 years ago. To think Kathrine still remembered, and used them…

When the girl sent him a worried glance, Steve shook his head and stepped forward.

“Uhmm… I came looking for a.. uhmm..” Instead of saying anything, he pointed at the test, which hung on a shelf together with alcohol-and ovulation-tests.

Kathrine smiled brightly and took one down from the shelf.

“This one? Is the girlfriend expecting?” The question in itself was innocent enough, but it made his stomach twist in unknown excitement.

“I think so, yes.” She blinked at him, and scanned the test on the cash register, and Steve paid without even checking it. It didn’t matter as long as he got a clarification.

“Are you married?”

“God forbid it!” Steve hadn’t really been listening, but after answering he did. A heavy blush spread itself across his face. He tried taking it back, but it was far too late for that. Kathrine looked slightly embarrassed.

“I-I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have-“

“No, it’s okay. Uhh, it’s just. Even if the… test, is positive, then… I can’t imagine getting married.”

Kathrine thought about that a little, and the silence fell upon the shop.

“Don’t you like her?” Steve was shocked. Not over the question itself, but.. he didn’t... know. Not even once had Steve thought about if he liked, or disliked the trickster god. Did Loki look handsome? _Yes_. Was he appealing beside his appearance? For his personality? (If you forgot about his horribly big ego, and the fact that he thought Asgardians more worthy than humans, then…) _Yes_.

Steve shook his head heavily. Had he just admitted to liking Loki? The same guy who had killed 70 people in barely 3 days, killed Coulson, and.. raped him?

Steve walked towards the door, and before stepping outside he sighed; “I fear so.”

Not long after Steve sat on a bench in the local park. He made sure that he was alone before reading the instructions on the pregnancy test.

Following them, he waited impatiently. The writings said to pee on a strip, put it into a plastic measure, and only wait 2 minutes for the results.

 _ONLY wait 2 minutes_?! Somehow, that seemed like an eternity. Was it the sun making him sweat as a pig, or was it his nerves? Shortly he considered taking of the big hoodie, but that wasn’t an option. Then he would notice _that_ again.

Yes, a little bump had appeared on his normally flat stomach. Nothing big, but Steve didn’t doubt any longer. He just wanted to state the obvious, so the truth wasn’t something he could run away from anymore.

Swiftly he looked over to the measure. And then he kept starring.

 _I... Had an a feeling about this, but… I still can’t believe it,_ -Steve thought to himself.

 **Positive**. The test, meant for women, had somehow against the laws of physics ended up positive. He was expecting.

Without thinking any further, he threw the test into the nearest trash can, and ran all he could.

Before he knew it, he stood inside the little shop again. Sweat ran down his temple and he gasped for air. Not out of need, but desperation.

“Oh, back already, sir?”

Steve simply nodded, agreeing silently.

He did as last time; pointed instead of talking, not saying a word.

Kathrine looked at the young man who fought to keep his breath under control.

 _Guess the test was positive, then_ -Kathrine thought to herself. He was far from the first to react like that.

Before he ran out she made a bet to herself about him coming again before long. When Steve had come the second time, Kathrine had been in the middle of putting the new medicine in the right places. So she picked up from where she had left it, and sighed.

Who was the lucky girl to have caught such a good looking guy? Whoever it was, had to be a god to match his heroic appearance.

She stood with her back against the door, lifting a heavy package onto the shelf, when the bell rang again.

A smirk slit itself on her face.

“The same again, sir?” She still hadn’t turned.

“Yes, please.” This time he had been halfway out of the door before she dared asking the question, which had bothered her since he returned the first time.

“Is it really that bad?”

Steve turned towards her and frowned. As if she first now realized what she had been about to say, Kathrine stopped herself.

“Come on. What was it that you wanted to ask?” Steve did his best not to sound forceful. Somehow he sensed that this was harder on Kathrine than she let of.

“To have the chance of becoming a parent. Is it that bad?”

This wasn’t really a question. Something much more personal laid behind it. Then it hit him.

“You can’t..?”

Kathrine shook her head.

“And will never be getting the chance to be.” When she could see the guilt on Steve’s face, she smiled halfheartedly at him.

“No worries, it can’t be changed. Are… are you gonna keep it?”

“Yeah.” Steve surprised both Kathrine and himself by the sudden answer. Under normal circumstances he would never have gotten pregnant. Most likely never gotten a child.

Not that he didn’t want to, but being part of the Super Soldier-program had its drawbacks as well.

When it became known that he had gotten a child, scientists from all over the world would want to examine it. Figure out if it, too, had the same extraordinary gifts as its father. It would never be left alone until it died. Maybe not even then. And so would he, when it inevitably became clear that no female had taken part in creating the child.

Being in the Avengers tower would make it impossible to hide for long. People would wonder, maybe a paparazzi would sneak in. Take pictures, ask questions. Maybe Loki would come back.

That particular thought scared him more than he would like to admit. Merely one hour ago he might have said "yes" to an abortion, but not now.

“So… You won’t give it away? You’ll keep it yourself? Alone?” Steve nodded.

“Hmm… If, I mean… If you ever consider asking for help, then you know where the shop is, okay Steve?”

He froze.

“How did you..?”

“Your face is all over the news. Didn’t you figure someone would recognize you?”

Not replying to that, he changed the subject. Kathrine promised to help and offered him to stay at her place. To not tell anyone. He declined to the offer, not wanting her to get further involved, gave his word on keeping in touch, and walked back to the tower.

He waited a few hours and packed a bag of clothing and some money. He didn’t like the idea of leaving without saying a word, but what else could he do?

Most likely even Clint would want to stop him, if he knew Steve had plans on moving out and leaving them.

The only thought helping him through, the thing making it easier to walk out of the building, and towards a much bigger danger, was the bump. The child. His, soon to be, child.

He now stood in an alleyway, waiting. Not long ago had the rain begun falling down in big droplets. About the time he shoved up, Steve was soaked to the bone.

“It’s unwise of you to be on your own, Cap.” The voice made a shiver run down his spine, but Steve stood tall.

He glanced into the alley, barely able to skim the darker shade of a silhouette. A lightning not far behind him lit the alley for a second, revealing his watcher.

The cloth was the same. The attitude. The hair, the gaze.

Steve’s legs began shaking from standing out in the rain for so long. He felt tired, and dizzy. And he had no idea how long he could keep upright.

“Bucky, I need your help.”

 _My voice. It sounds so… Strange._ That was the last thing running through his head, when his legs gave up on him, and he fell against the concrete head first.

Hands grabbed him, and before his blurry vision turned into complete darkness, he disappeared into a familiar grayish color.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, Loki is still an ass, huh? And Bucky showed up... 
> 
> Tell me what I can do to improve (like less spelling errors, they all belong to me) and what you think!
> 
> X


	3. Chapter 3

Steve was still sitting in the living room, silently watching over the sleeping toddler. Without fully knowing what he did, Steve leaned over the child to remove a wild tot of hair from  
Lucas’ chin. Lucas simply rubbed the area which now tickled from the swift contact of skin against skin, then slept no soundly. 

Lucas was so wonderful, Steve thought. Small and innocent. Though the child shared the same type of hair as Loki, he didn’t really resemble the Asgardian otherwise. 

Yes, his skin was paler than most. Yes, his cheekbones were placed rather high compared to others his age. But he was so charming. 

When walking together in the park Lucas was a womanizer. All wanted to see him, touch that pretty skin, that soft-looking hair. And what did Lucas do? He hid behind Steve of course! 

Many things could be said about him, but if anything, then Lucas wasn’t comfortable around strangers. Very few had gotten his trust, and less were allowed around Steve (for a toddler, Lucas was rather possessive when it came to sharing ’his’ Steve with anyone. That being said, sharing most often wasn’t an option..). 

Kathrine, the nice girl from the shop, had been one of those chosen few. Near her he smiled, even laughed (something Steve himself, didn’t see that often).

He knew a few people who would most likely love Lucas. They properly thought that they knew a few things Lucas had to be taught, things he needed to see (embarrassing stories to be told involving his dad getting kicked in a fight for not paying attention, or just pranks played on him).

Just a shame that that exact among of people wouldn’t meet Lucas anytime soon. If they ever got the chance, ever…

Women were one thing, more rare was it to see Lucas allow any males around. If anyone approached Steve in the park or the playground, he would yell at them. Step defensively in front of Steve, and scream that they should leave his “Daddy” alone. So far, only ONE man had been the exception…

Steve rubbed his eyes tiredly, trying to shake the last bid of sleep of off him. 

Sitting here to watch his little boy sleep, wasn’t helping him in doing so. Heaving himself up on unstable legs Steve successfully reached the bathroom, where he tossed his sweaty clothes on the white tiles. Yep, since he hadn’t changed his clothing after his dead run against Tony the previous night, he smelled worse than the sewer. A bath couldn’t be any less than what he needed. 

The water seemed almost healing against his smooth skin, and it barely clung unto his blond locks. 

\--

Steve awoke to the feeling of water against his face. It wasn’t pounding heavily like the rain had done, neither was it cold. A rag in damp, lukewarm water was carefully patted onto his forehead in an almost caring manner. 

Carefully he opened his eyes, only to find he couldn’t see a damn thing. Was his eyes open? They felt so heavy that Steve didn’t even know the right answer to that question. 

“Lay still. Your body’s working overtime for that little stunt you did. Don’t strain yourself just yet.” 

If Steve had been in doubt about the Winter Soldiers identity, then he wasn’t any longer.

“Bucky…” It was barely a whisper, and yet he knew that it had been heard.

Silence fell upon the room, then:

“Why did you do this? What if I had left you there, in the rain?” 

A smirk rose on Steve’s face.

“You wouldn’t do that. That’s just not who you are.” 

An unconvinced sound left Bucky’s lips, but he didn’t deny it. 

“You left me in the cold. Why shouldn’t I do so with you too?”

Steve, who had been lying on his back sat upright in a split-second, and forced his blue eyes open. With a quick observant stare around the room he found what he hoped to find, Bucky, and caught his glance, making him unable to look anywhere else. Blue collided with grey in a fierce battle, one that Steve intended to win.

“I thought you died that day. After we got the Hydra members stopped, a searching team and I returned. We looked for hours and hours again. Don’t think I just forgot you like that.”

Silence again. Bucky made no signs of wanting to break the intense stare in-between them. He just inhaled and exhaled in a relaxing manner, as if the subject hadn’t been about life and death, but simply if it was going to rain the following day as well or not. 

“I know.”

“Then why did you—“

“How can you live with them? Live with the lies they fill you with each day?! Taking on a mask and claiming to be among the good guys, saving the world… But they still make you take the lives of others. Why are you following orders, when you know they are wrong?” 

Somehow Bucky had changed the subject AND made Steve feel guilty at the same time. Funny how he had forgot how excellent Bucky could be at doing that…

“I don’t claim to be a hero. And last I checked, I only save those who are in need. I stopped working for S.H.I.E.L.D. for that exact reason.”

Bucky, now standing, walked over the floor silently looking furious to say the least. 

“As if being part of the so-called Avengers makes it any better!” –he mocked.

“And what is wrong with that?” 

Bucky stopped his pacing, and stared right back at Steve, before returning to his wandering once more. 

Sigh. Steve looked around his surroundings swiftly. Bucky had taken him to a rundown apartment with almost no space or furniture. The only things in the apartment seemed to be the worn-down couch he, himself was lying on when awakening, a small table and a chair. Dew ran in small streams down the walls and hung in the air, making it difficult to breathe heavily. 

The only light in the room came from a small lamp on the table. The lampshade was damaged so badly, that it would have been close to impossible to repair it, making the bulb glow uncovered on both of the men in the room. 

“Because when you are with them, I have to consider you an enemy, that’s why!” The angry look on the man Steve used to know so well, seemed ironic to the sad expression he himself wore. 

“Well, then it’s good that I’m not.” 

Bucky halted and observed him suspiciously. 

“What did you say?” 

Steve inhaled sharply, trying to keep his hands from shaking. The consequences of his decision had finally hit him, stone hard.

“I’m not.. I don’t participate with the Avengers. Not now or.. the next years onwards.” 

Steve fully understood the confused look on Bucky’s face, but he didn’t help him. He would under normal circumstances, but this wasn’t among the list of things he considered ‘normal’. 

“Why should I believe you? The Steve I knew back in the forties’ didn’t do anything half-assed, and he was stupid enough to be loyal even when the situation didn’t recall for it.”

“I haven’t changed much since then, it seems.”

Again, that confused raising of Bucky’s eyebrows, while he crossed his arms on his chest. A sign Steve was far too familiar with.

“Then why-“ 

With a caring hand Steve stroked his stomach, a little too carefully for Bucky’s taste. Why would he suddenly-

It was first then that Bucky lowered his gaze towards Steve’s half-exposed waist. It wasn’t unnaturally big or in any means out of form, but it seemed… Well, bigger. Bigger than how Steve’s trimmed body usually allowed it to be. But how…

As if Steve could read his mind, he stated:

“I don’t know, so please don’t ask. I just know that it is real, and growing. Fast.” 

This made Bucky slowly sit back in the chair, the only chair in the room, and scan Steve over a little closer. 

He was sweating as if he had just been training in the gym, his eyes looked feverish and he was pale. Hadn’t he known better Bucky would conclude Steve to be sick, but that was impossible. The serum should’ve prevented him from getting ill so easily. 

And yet here he was, finally dry and, if his eyes and logical sense didn’t deceive him-

“Pregnant”. The word had been surprisingly complicated to pronounce. 

“Yep”. 

“Do you know who, uhmm…” knocked you up… “Did this?” Even saying those words inside his mind made it troublesome to breathe. If Steve knew he had even been thinking like  
that…

Steve sent Bucky a stare which both reminded him of the old Steve, the one he had known since his early childhood. And it seemed to say: Darh, what are you thinking of me, dumbass? 

“Kay, care to share that knowledge?” 

Another deadly glance. Shocking how he one second could resemble a man on the verge of dying, and the next Death himself.

Bucky finally understood why Steve had been standing in that alley, in the middle of the pouring rain. He didn’t have anyone else to go to. If S.H.I.E.L.D. got a tip about… whatever the outcome would turn out to be… Or even worse, if anyone else did… What wouldn’t they do to that poor, yet unborn, creature? 

“What are you going to do now then?” 

Steve relaxed his tense shoulders, and… didn’t he look kinda, well… Scared? Whatever Steve felt, he quickly covered it up with something that strongly imitated indifference. 

“I don’t know. I figured it out earlier this morning. That bag over there (he pointed over at the corner in the room, where an old radiator dominated most of the lower wall, at a socking sport bag) it’s all I got.” 

“No.” 

“What?” Steve looked shocked at Bucky. However many times he tried, reading or making sense of Bucky wasn’t an option. Just like he used to be; as closed off as a safe. Whatever ran through his former teammate’s mind was to be kept a mystery from him. 

“You’ll stay here.”

The thought had never crossed Steve’s mind, and if it did he would've rejected it. Bucky was no longer the man he remembered, the one he had laughed with, the one who had helped him out of more dangers than he dared to count. 

He was a warrior, an assassin. Most likely hired by someone who didn’t exactly wish for the best of humanity, someone he was guaranteed not to know already. 

He had to tell Bucky no, grab his stuff and leave. But, before Steve had time to protest, Bucky stopped him with a single peek of his dominant gray eyes. 

“But—“

“That’s final.” 

Just like a small child in school, Steve nodded obediently, and tried to hold back a yawn. Bucky’s all-seeing eye caught it anyway.

“Try to get some sleep. You seem like you could use a lot of it.” 

Steve checked the small room again, and became ready to protest.

“And what about you?”

“I’ll manage. Sleep.” Bucky’s tone left no room for discussion. So instead of beginning another argument he was certain to lose, his brain far of in dreamland already, he lay back on the couch, pulled the blanket he had first awoken in closer around himself, and slept. 

Had his eyes even been closed before he fell asleep?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How'd you like that? It is great to see Bucky in action, or should he have stayed away? Let me know ^w^


	4. Different Perspective

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So, this time we hear from Loki' POV. That'll be interesting... X)

If anything, Thor hated being stuck in Asgard. Normally he loved the feasts and hanging out with his long-time battle comrades Sif, Volstagg, Hogun and Fandral. But not this day.

Saturday. The day in the week that he had come to hate the most.

Trudging down the halls he nodded politely to each guard, not saying much. His steps leaded him to the banquet hall where he kneeled before the king, the Allfather. His father. 

“You summoned me, father?” In his kneeled position Thor sneaked himself to admire the carvings on the roof, the gold covering close to all surfaces, the marble. Anything except  
the eye of his father, Odin. 

An act not going unnoticed. 

“Have you visited Loki yet?” Thor winched unwillingly. 

“No. I found it unwise to disturb him in his… current state.” Odin sighed, staying put on the throne with a straight back. 

This didn't surprise him, and he hated it just as much as Thor did. But it had to be done.

The state of his youngest son, Loki, was far from a secret, even though he would've preferred it that way.

Barely two weeks ago he had destroyed his cell in the dungeons, and gotten all the way to the middle of Bifrost before getting stopped. Forced back to his old champers, now unable to even leave the room without Odin’s knowledge. 

Before that he had insisted on talking to Odin, no one else. He had been denied his request, and refused to answer to anything Thor might say. 

Now… the rumors said he didn't sleep, move nor ate at all. A fact that was indeed true, and it made the heart of Odin bleed out and boil in rage in equal amounts. 

“I want you to talk to him none the less.” 

“But-“

“That’s an order.” Thor closed his open-forward mouth, acknowledging the words of his father. Not liking them a bit, but accepting them. 

“Yes, father”.

\--

Outside the door it was quiet. Not a single guard lingered there, they weren't needed. 

The door was sealed, making fx Thor able to go in, but Loki unable to get out. 

Thor hesitated with his hand on the doorknob for a second. Loki… Had changed.

When being dragged into his quarters, he screamed and fought the best he could to get out of the tight hold of the guards. But something seemed off.

He didn't fight like he used to, Thor was sure of that. He had been close to desperate, stretching his hands in the direction of Odin. 

“Listen to me, you've got to listen!” –Loki had shouted. It was silent in the halls now. If he wanted, Thor could've heard a pin fall to the ground.

Thor shook his head before turning the handle. He didn't bother knocking first (Loki never answered anyway) and simply stepping inside. 

The sight which came to greet him almost made him gasp audibly;

The room was bare as the day it was built. 

“Well hello Thor. Nice of you to come visit. I was beginning to wonder how long you would let me dwell by myself before coming to check if I still had a pulse.” 

Thor closed his eyes, inwardly counting to 10.

“Stop your illustrated games. They don't fascinate me the least.”

A glimpse of light floated before Thor’s eyes for a mere second, leaving behind the truth of the quarters.

All furnishings, except the bed, had been shred to pieces. Broken wood and stone, parchment were scattered around, glass even. 

And Loki? Said trickster leaned against the wall, face pale the expression none-existing.  
His usually correct uniform sat in disorder, which Loki himself didn’t seem to notice. Since Loki didn’t take care of himself his hair had grown uncontrollably. Normally his hair fell in soft curls in shoulder-length, now it could easily rest against his lower back. 

The spark in his eyes had been gone for nearly a year, but now… 

The only thing alive on Loki at the moment, seem to be his green orbs. 

“Let me travel to Earth, and I will cooperate however you want.”

Those words sent Thor aback. 

“Wha..?” Had he truly heard that right? Loki sighed impatiently which was so unlike his usual self. He never showed his feelings if avoidable. 

“Take me to Earth and I will answer any questions you want. It may be from why I let go of your hand that day on Bifrost, as to my reason for helping to invade your precious Earth.” At the last part he rolled his eyes, then stared straight back at Thor.

Thor felt at ease, but then again… could it be so simple? 

Loki was devious, even when young. He didn't do anything unless it was beneficial for him. Getting to Earth would gain him… what exactly? 

“What is in it for you?”

“That is none of your business. Do we have a deal then?” Loki looked stern, not giving an inch. But they could be two at that game.

“No. Not until you tell me of why you wish to visit Earth. I thought we all got the expression that you hated Earth the most?”

“Do not push your luck. I admit that I am not exactly fond of that pitiful excuse of a realm, but it is better than this cavity I current retire in,” Loki said. 

Thor almost found himself believing his brother, but something made him insecure. For a split second Loki looked away, something Thor nearly missed.  
But this little slip in the trickster’s behavior warned him from getting deceived once more (throughout their childhood spent together, Loki dedicated many an hour into harassing  
and fool him).

Thor sighed yet again for what seemed to be the millionth time. Continuing like this would get neither of them anywhere. Instead he tried from a new angle. 

“You remember our time spent together as children, do you not?” Loki rolled his eyes.

“What of it?”

“How many times didn't we sneak into our Father’s-“

“-You’re Father-“

“-refuge, just to hear one more adventure, one more tale?” The mere thought of it made Thor smile weakly, Loki huffed. 

“Far too many.” Thor ignored his grumbling brother, continuing his course. And continued. 

The next hours seemed without an end for Loki, since Thor kept on rambling about the brotherly bond keeping them together, their advantageous ups and downs and so on. 

Loki would have given close to anything to just make him leave, to make the room quiet yet again, to be allowed to drown in his own despair.

More than once he tried to pray in, but Thor gave him no foot to the ground.

And still the blonde talked, and when midnight fell over them, he still did. 

Loki massaged his aching temples, sighing despondently.

“… was when he looked at the All Father, not knowing whether to yell at him, or at us. –“

“ENOUGH!” The sudden outburst made Thor halt, looking innocently in the direction of Loki, as if not understanding what he had done to upset him. 

“Loki is everythi-“

“Drop the act, you are no good at in anyway. If I tell you, will you then please leave?” 

Thor laid his arms over cross in a victorious manner, smiling wide from chin to chin. As an answer, he simply nodded, letting his brother enjoy the abrupt silence for a second longer. 

“I have… something, I need to collect.”

“The Tesseract?” Loki sent Thor a black look.

“Something with a heartbeat. Not an object. I do promise I will return after that.” Thor shot Loki a puzzled gaze. 

“And you would bring a human with you, back here, to Asgard?” Again that dull stare.

“Isn’t that obvious?”

“The All Father would never allow it.” A satisfying grin grew upon Loki’s pale face, making him look like a maniac instead of the genius he really was. 

“Oh but he won't have much saying in this matter.” 

Thor wondered about that. What could be of such importance that not even the All Father could… 

A realization hit Thor stone hard in the face. No. It had to be one of his tricks. Odin might've done it, but for Loki to have archived such a deed… 

Mentioned trickster folded his hands in his lap which made him seem like a completely different person than merely 5 minutes ago. 

Now the usual glimpse in his eyes had returned, with full intensity. 

“You couldn't possibly…-“

“And, oh so-called brother of mine, why not? When Odin could do it, then why shouldn't I?” 

“Brother, this is no childs play, this is serious.” To no surprise did this offend Loki. He was used to that, but this once he was telling the truth. And still no one believed him. Even  
the “Mighty” Thor, who had a reputation of being quite naïve, doubted. 

Through grinding teeth Loki spoke with barely a whisper;

“Do you remember how Odin described Frigga, not as his wife and now the rightful Queen, but as his Amandum*? How it started like an electrified sensation running down his spine paralyzing him, making her the only object capable of saving him, to stop the gravity from trying to pull him away into space? How she healed something inside of him, something he wasn't conscious of being broken. Something as cold as the howling winds from Jotenheim and as warm as the burning star called Deneb, at the same time. 

She made life get a purpose and, unknowingly to herself, got to be his reason to aim against getting to be the ‘great’ king he is.

She did that to him, such as a certain mortal did to me. And I want him back. He belongs with me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kay...
> 
> *Amandum, is a word I half-on-half made myself. 
> 
> The word Amandum Origins from the Latin word amo, meaning: I love & the other word: Amanda (she who should be loved) or Amandus (he who should be loved).
> 
> In this fic, Amandum is like a soul-mate. Someone (undefined by origin, sex or which world they were born in) who is meant to be your true love (the one meant by the universe for you, and only you).
> 
> The chance of ever finding your Amandum is minimalistic, and once finding him/her, you aren't in a doubt.


	5. A New Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something great happens, something turning Steve' world upside down

The grand streets in a quite small town were full to the brick with people, each coming in private errands, and none of them noticing more than themselves and their company. 

Everywhere they chattered, and the sound of laughter rang in his ears. It made him smile a little to himself.

Wandering around with no goal had become a habit of his, and he found himself doing just that this ‘turning-cold-in-late-August’-day.

He enjoyed seeing other pairs with their children, observe how the latter interacted and behaved. What made them cry, how did their laugher sound? What did they do when they cried, what was the parent expected to do, and what DID they do?

He had of course seen those scenarios before, but somehow this was different. 

Walking near a playground, he made a halt. A lone father swung his little daughter on a swing less than 20 meters away, giving him a clear view.

The girl giggled loudly, stumbling through words to ask her dad to swing faster. Without protest he did. 

The girl fascinated him. She obviously felt safe with her father near, not giving a second glimpse to the other children there (for there where others, some that he didn’t see either).

With the swing constantly moving faster, and the girl being only a few years old, she became scared, suddenly almost screaming for it to stop.

The man with her halted, taking her in for a hug as she sniffed silently. He whispered something to her, something no one else could hear. Mere seconds later she smiled at him.

Jumping out of his embrace, she ran clumsily towards the sandpit. 

Totally gone in the scene in front of him, he didn't sense the man closing in on him surprisingly quick. A hand grabbed his upper arm, forcing him along with a tight grip.

“Is this what you've been doing all day, Steve? Standing here looking dumbfounded?” The irritation was obvious in the stranger’s voice.

“What if I say yes?”

James ‘Bucky’ Barnes shook his head, not giving his former teammate as much as a glare.

“You're impossible. Which part of staying indoors didn't sink into that thick head of yours?” Bucky had decided not to say anything further before arriving in the apartment, but his frustration had taken the best of him. 

Could the idiot not see the unneeded risk he put himself into? 

Steve sighed; “It was only to get some air. Besides, it wasn't for long. I can take care, I always do.”

Mentally rolling his eyes, Bucky didn't answer back. He dragged Steve along, and continued doing so when he began walking along freely. He first let go to unlock the door, gesturing for Steve to step in first.

~

The first days at Bucky' had been… awkward. No one had known what to say to the other, or how to interact. A silent agreement had been to leave out subjects as: Bucky’s past or what he did for a living (In reverse Bucky let things as who the father for the child Steve carried, slide).

Bucky had been gone most days, returning briefly at night to check on Steve, not saying much.

A week after Steve moved in, Bucky came back earlier than usual. He had set a few rules then, being: not to concern himself with funding’s (the stern look Bucky sent him made Steve hold his tongue), they would be taking care of (he wasn't allowed to ask how either…). A few other things were mentioned, nothing really important.

Then he said: “Don't leave the apartment.” He hadn’t instructed why, and Steve had found it wiser not to ask.

~

Placing himself in the sofa, Bucky sat on the chair opposite of him. His stern look no less agitated.

Figuring tranquility wasn't going to clear the heavy atmosphere, Steve cleared his throat audibly. 

“I don't get what’s gotten you so angry about this. I barely…-“

“You didn’t THINK, that’s what gotten me angry!” Bucky stood, crossed his arms demonstratively.

He cared little for Steve’s pitiful excuses, and found himself wanting to strangle the fool until the message had sunk in.

“You know what Steve, that’s the problem with you. You do nothing with a bad intention, but neither are you careful around yourself.”

Steve sent him a puzzled expression, not getting where this was heading.

“The one most dangerous living object towards you, is yourself! What if someone had seen you?”

“What do you mean?” Steve, even more confused, rose from the sofa to feel more even with Bucky. 

Bucky snorted, pointing a metal-finger towards his belly.

“That’s why! I get why it’s there, but not many others do.” The tone in his voice had soften, not wanting to give Steve a fright.

His eyes followed the true subject of the conversation, laying a warm hand against his bulge. 

The last few weeks had done what none of the previous had; making the pregnancy obvious. Nothing fancy like a woman in labor, but now the bump was clearly noticeable. 

He had calculated himself to be 3-4 month in, give or take (not by counting, that would be close to impossible with the frozen-down-experience in mind, but by looking it up in books and on the ‘internet’).

Steve fell silent, letting his jelly-like legs give in. Sitting in the soft sofa often made him relax, and unwillingly it still did.

Bucky moved closer, halting in front of Steve before bowing down in a kneeling position.

“Look. I want you to be safe, but when you walk carefree outside this room, I can't guarantee that. Coming home, realizing you weren't there, made me… unnerved.” Bucky paused unwillingly, not knowing how to express himself. 

“When you went for me you drew me into this as well, so I’m responsible for your safety. And ‘its’ too. You need to take your share in doing so, or it’ll be practically impossible.”

Steve sent him a small nod, indicating that he understood.

“Kay. If I inform you more of what’s going on, will you then stay? If it’s because you feel lonely I can arrive sooner, but with my… profession, I can't promise anything. I will try, though. Is that a deal?”

The thought of Bucky still being inside the assassin in front of him, made Steve’s eyes water up. He didn’t allow any tears to fall, but his expression radiated relief. 

He nodded again, stretching out a hand which Bucky took without hesitation.

 

\--

 

The following weeks became months before he knew it, and he enjoyed each and every moment of it. 

After that argument, they had solved whatever upcoming problems with ease. Most days were spent researching on how to take care of It (the gender being unknown had made Bucky nickname the unborn ‘It’, an appellation making Steve frown inwardly), others in the bathroom across the lavatory bowl. 

Soon it became crystal clear that the speeding process of the pregnancy was far from normal; what usually involved in 8 weeks, took barely 3 for It to accomplish. In this rate the whole progress would've taken ⅓ of a year, instead of ¾ as it should. 

Steve pushed it aside, figuring it had something to do with the ‘Super-Soldier-Serum’ pumped into him little more than half a century ago.

 

In the lone hours of day he spent many an hour thinking of his former teammates;

Anthony, was he still awake when the Devil went to bed, making funny devices outside Steve’s logical sense? 

Was Bruce still able to cope with Tony, with the Hulk? The man being nice in nature, had made him a friend in Steve’s mind within seconds after meeting him the first time.

Did Natasha do well; (he doubted not her skills, she was one of the best agents he knew of) was she still hitting on Clint, even though the archer was far too inattentive on those matters to notice?

And last but not least: Thor. The last Earth had seen of him had been when he took off with Loki in his care. That had been 1½ month ago. Was he okay, or was he strangling Loki in his cell? (The mere thought made him smile sadly, it would be so Thor-like, it got to happen at some point)

Bucky had kept his part of the deal. They lingered in shared memories of long gone times, both the bad but certainly some good ones too.

Sometimes Bucky was gone for days, others he stayed put. Steve stayed in the apartment, only exception being the night walks with his old comrade by his site. The walks always occurred at nightfall, and they had shorten down the more heavy the belly became.

Steve was often too out of breath to complain about that…

 

It was certain to happen, Steve knew that. But it didn't hurt less when it did. 

The first sign had been intuition. A feeling of something falling into place. An almost calming feeling. 

It lasted shortly, though. Seconds later he felt a jolt run throw his entire body, making him bent over in pain. 

Luckily Bucky had been there, or else no one could've contacted Kathrine (the girl from the pharmacy had revealed herself to be a midwife-apprentice at the end of her practicing period). 

She had promised, when the time came, to be willing to help out the best she could).

She'd arrived in a row, looked him over, and ordered Bucky to get hot water and blankets (had the situation been another, and had he been without this agony, the sight would've humored him).

Many things happen shortly after another, and a lot of it went right through his head. He sensed others around him, but saw them not. He was carefully laid down, something Steve himself didn’t observe, too far gone in his own thoughts.

 

The world had become blurry, making everything into wary shapes and forms. The thought of maybe losing ‘It’ fell upon him, making him try to rise from the floor, but gentle hands forced him down again.

Voices mumbled soothingly against him ears, what they said didn't make sense, but the intention was clear; he wasn't alone in this, they were here to help. 

He allowed them.

An especially strong jolt went through him, and the words; “It’s time”, went through his fussy world. A firm hand intertwined with his own, preparing him for what came next.

And nothing could have prepared him for that:

It was like getting the serum and feeling the effect unfold over again, tenfold. Nothing he had ever experienced could describe the sensation filling him at that moment, and nothing after couldn't either. 

It felt as if the unevenness kept growing with no sight of ever stopping. Had there really been a world before this? 

A sound. Something fragile, which dragged Steve right back to the surface without difficulty, moved into him in waves. 

The world slowly came back to him, centering on a small, yet giant cry. 

Something small was put cautiously into his arms, the noises in the background turning into human voices.

“It’s… it’s a boy.” 

Steve couldn't clarify if the voice belonged to Bucky or Kathrine, little did it matter. 

The most important being on Earth, if not the whole Universe, was lying peacefully in front of him, wrapped in cloth. 

The boy was covered in leftover blood and had a small amount of curly hair black against the pinkish skin. The eyes were closed, the screaming on a standstill. 

A persisting yarn made the small mouth open wide, revealing healthy-looking rosy gums. No teeth yet, not for a long time to come. 

As if on command, one dark eye picked open, taking in everything in the room and in the end settling on Steve. A wonderful giggle left the boy’s lips, making the first tear fall from Steve’s eyes.

Carefully he shifted into a more comfortable position, feeling a dull pain in his abdomen. 

“He…. He’s the most…. Perfect being I’ve ever seen.”

Bucky and Kathrine sent each other a cheerful smile, wiping their sweaty foreheads. This hadn’t been easy, but they'd made it. They had actually made it! 

“So then… A‘ve you figure out a name so far?” – asked Bucky, leaning in closer to let a metal finger stroke the hand of the newborn. 

He had to hold back a (manly) yelp as a petite hand tried to enclose around the outstretched finger. The object being larger that the babe made it difficult, but it almost succeeded. 

Steve smiled happily, never having felt so blessed in his entire life. He did not need time to think that question over.

“I have. Right now. Lucas.”

Bucky forced his eyes of the giggling boy, not once letting go of the finger, and nodded acknowledging. 

“Sounds about right.” 

To this Kathrine barely grinned, looking like she was about to pass out from exhaustion. 

Steve felt a similar sensation overwhelm him, forcing him into a much needed sleep. And this time, he knew it wouldn't be nightmares welcoming him.

~

In his room, locked up and alone for once, Loki experienced something close to a certain mortal, and unwillingly a warm sensation bathed itself over him. 

An unavoidable smile settled on his features, while a drop fell down his chin. He didn’t know why, but for a second, just a microscopical amount of time, he felt happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so he is born... What did you think? I know I made the waiting a little short-ish, but I haven't exactly tried it myself, and waiting is kinda difficult to describe... 
> 
> Hope you liked it, and please, tell me what you think. :)


	6. Summarizes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summarizing before the real fun gets to begin...

Steve had been right. That first night of his son’s life, he had had no nightmares whatsoever. It had been the most wonderful sleep Steve had yet to recall ever having.   
Well, since then nightmares had been unavoidable, but…

For a newborn Lucas turned out to be surprisingly unchallenging. When wanting something, it usually involved either food, to be carried around by none other than Steve (or he would wail out until, eventually, Steve gave in), or to explore his surroundings. 

The first few nights he tried to let the baby sleep for himself. That went,… Well, either Lucas began screaming, or Steve settled him at his chest covered up in blankets on his own account. Going to bed without the small form at his side felt almost painful within a few days. After the first weeks had turned into months it was out of discussion to let the toddler sleep alone. 

It didn’t take much effort to notice how different Lucas was compared to average toddlers his age. He seemed more… aware of his surroundings. While looking at things or living beings, he did more than just see the surface. As an example, whenever he clung to Steve for support, he always seemed to avoid Steve’s stomach. Almost as if he knew of the phantom pain Steve felt from time to time after giving birth. Not that Steve had given Lucas any reason to notice.

True be told, Steve was rather sensitive about his abdomen. He tended to flinch whenever anyone as much as touched him, but… How could a babe know that at the close-to-none-existing age of a few months? 

 

Bucky stayed at the apartment the first two weeks in a row. He claimed Steve needed time to rest, that he had nothing better to do. That he might as well stay put while Steve got back to his full strength again. 

Steve had more than once hinted that Bucky was welcome to interact with Lucas (said toddler always seemed to brighten up whenever Bucky was near), but Bucky usually declined. Around Lucas he was far more strict and careful.   
One would think him scared to crush the babe with his giant hands, belonging on a rather massive body.   
Bucky’s strange behavior did change though, the same night he went back to ‘work’. Steve had been out for more groceries, and when opening the door to the apartment, the most hilarious scenario met his eyes:

Bucky held Lucas in his arms while lifting him up and down in imitations of an airplane. 

That was not the fun part, nor the part warming up his entire being whenever recalling that memory. But Bucky smiled. Lucas giggled tirelessly, swinging his small arms and legs in all directions to show his excitement. 

For a few seconds all Steve could do was to stand there dumbfounded and stare, a fund smile littering his face. 

~

With Bucky gone most days, Steve made it a routine to be inactive during the daytime, so the all three of them could be together as much as possible (which seemed to suit Lucas just fine. For some reason he was always more awake when the time neared nightfall, and likewise drowsy at dawn). 

Living with a child was a mouthful, but Steve managed, somehow. Changing dibbers and looking after Lucas didn’t leave much time to save the world, but Steve couldn't deny the fact that… He missed it. 

Since Bucky had forbidden TV and radio inside of the apartment’s four walls, Steve knew little to nothing about what went on in the world anymore. Only when being out shopping for the utmost necessary baby-stuff or food, did he hear anything. Still not much, though. 

Tony had gotten a new price on behalf of the Avengers for their effort in protecting New York. 

Apparently the festivities had gotten quite of out hand though… (It being Tony how arranged it all, this shouldn’t come as such a shock to Steve, should it?).

Sometimes the headlines would involve whoever got themselves in a fight against the infamous Avengers, and for the first few months it caught his eye each time. But so far, no one of his former team members had gotten seriously injured. Not yet. 

~

When a year had passed, Bucky took off. He hadn’t said a word, just left. It was nothing more than Steve had expected, but the loss of his childhood friend, yet again, still hurt like hell. 

From time to time Steve thought he saw glimpses of him; when he went to playgrounds with Lucas, when he went out for groceries… When he took Lucas along to the WWII memorials. 

As if Lucas had caught Steve’s feelings as his own, he stayed equally quiet. 

One afternoon Steve was out for a run. He had arranged for Kathrine to come looking after Lucas when he saw a couple of boys playing around an old electricity pole. That shouldn’t have meant anything; boys playing around on the streets weren’t an unusual sight. But said pole cracking hurriedly falling towards the boys to crash them… not so much.

Steve didn’t think; he reacted. 

Before he knew it he had ran across the road, got a hold of the boys, and protected them under his body. There hadn’t been any time. The metal pole turned out to hurt less against his back than he had expected, as if the adrenaline-kick had been running too fast for Steve to really notice the impact. 

He quickly moved to discover that the boys, taking in the situation, were both relatively fine. A few scratches on ones chin, but nothing severe. 

He opened his mouth to ask if they were okay, but the oldest of the two caught up with him.

“It’s Captain America! It’s Steve Rogers! H-he saved us!”

People around the streets, who had witnessed the incident, gaped at Steve as had he been a ghost, some even going so far as pointing fingers in his direction. 

Pulling up his hoodie, Steve ran. Of course, no one could keep up with him even though they tried, and Steve felt terrified. 

The next day the whole team of Avengers had showed up, doing their best to try and track from where Steve had come, where he was heading. Luckily, to no wail. Though, at the end of the day Tony and the others had made a pronunciation. On behalf of the Avengers he strongly recommended that if anyone saw any sights of Steve, then to call for them. And to Steve himself: to see reason and come home. 

Steve had had to keep his distance from that part of time for months after that, all the while thinking; what had he done? 

He could have been caught! 

Being the person he was he felt no remorse what so ever. But he had to be more careful not to get caught up in anymore rescuing’s than most necessarily.

That being said, it became more and more difficult to keep away whenever help was required.

And each time he had been a tiny bit closer at getting snatched by Natasha (who had seen him twice), Clint (whose arrows had once unfolded a net which he barely got to get out of in time), or… Iron Man. The metal man, as Thor liked to call him, had shouted out for all to hear to get to him. Each word hurt more than any punch. 

He wanted to stop, to… To what exactly?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait, and that this is so short! The background-filling has now finally been done, so from now on... No more summing up. Not even Steve knows what is to come trom here.
> 
> And am I the only one who misses our favorite mischievous trickster God?


	7. Caught Up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is the next chapter. I apologize for how long it has taken me to update, the real life got me ^^".
> 
> But rest assured, I have no plans on abandoning this fic before the last chapter has been writing (who knows when that will be though..).

Chapter 7: Caught Up

Steve shook his head, while blinking rapidly. When had he fallen asleep? He didn’t know, and should he really care? He had actually slept. Now a days that was a rare occurrence.

Stretching himself carefully he felt the soft material of the couch, which he apparently was leaning heavily against. Somehow he had either fallen of the chair, or (more likely) been fascinated yet again by Lucas’ sleeping form and felt asleep leaning closer to him. That wouldn’t be the first time…

Steve ran his morning-stiff fingers through Lucas’ dark curls, so very different from his own. 

Like so often before, this act made him wonder: Would Lucas grow up to be like his other half? Not only resemble Loki enough for most to see, but act him out as well? Steve surely hoped not. With all the time he’d spent raising him, mostly by himself, could he have done anything differently? Could he, with a hand to his heart, say he had done his best? 

As if to answer that same question, a small yawn alerted him that his son had awoken.

“Da?” Lucas mumbled.

“Hey buddy.”

“You not slept again?” For such a young boy Lucas had his ways to sound demanding. Most often regarding Steve’s health. 

“Did.” Nice, to actually be able to defend himself without twisting the truth a little…

“Hmmmm..” Lucas got up in a sitting position, staring Steve straight into his blue eyes with his drowsy ones. After some intense moments where neither refused to falter their gaze, Lucas blinked, seemingly content with whatever he found. 

“Da?”

“Hmm?”

“Help.” Lucas looked sulkily at his pajamas, making Steve down a chuckle. Well, if Lucas resembled Loki in any way, this one was less grave than most.

From his time with the Avengers, Steve remembered Thor’s complaining about his brother the best. Loki this, Loki that… Sometimes he briefly mentioned what he liked to call his glorious times of battle, and the festivities thereafter… And then returning to his favorite subject: Loki. 

One of those many things had been Loki’s lacking ability to ask for the aid of others. Their help. 

Well, if that was the case, then it might be hereditary. 

“Of course,” Steve said, moving quickly to find something for Lucas to wear before he became too impatient and began complaining. Another Loki-inherited ‘ability’ perhaps? 

Naturally, Lucas did utter his irritation of having to wait. He was hungry and wanted to play on one of the local playgrounds, and he was in distress of what he wanted to do the most. Maybe not so big of a problem, but for a small boy with a wider intelligent than what was to be expected of his age, it was close to be the next ragnarok. 

Steve solved the problem by quickly making a few sandwiches they could bring along before giving Lucas dressing Lucas in his blue jacket.

Steve had made it a goal of his to avoid letting Lucas wear green, when he did the resembling’s to Loki were far too obvious. Once a woman had looked at Lucas, suspicion turning her face deadly pale. 

Of course, he couldn’t change his son’s face, -and he had no intention to-, but he felt no need to make others look down on Lucas because of his looks. 

“Da, ready now?” 

Steve shook his head. Had he been daydreaming again? He took on a cap and pulling in down to cover most of his face, hoping it would make him less recognizable.

“Yeah.” Taking Lucas’ small hand in his own, and a basket -with the sandwiches, a blanket and some soda for the both of them- in the other, they went for Lucas’ favorite play yard. 

\--

There were many people to be seen out at the playground today. Many single parents, pairs, and of course, children. 

Their age ranged from toddlers of a few months to youngsters in their early teens. If you looked them over fast enough, you would see a flash of colors and shapes. Far too many to make sense. 

He couldn’t recall having seen this many people here before, which made him feel unnerved. 

For a second Steve considered to just turn around and go back home. With so many people the risk of someone guessing who he was, turned considerably higher than he liked. 

Before he really got to do anything, like going somewhere else, Lucas pulled his hand free of his dad’s grip. Steve reacted in slow motion. First he starred at his empty hand, then through the sea of children until he found his raven haired boy. Lucas was as usual very quick to settle himself wherever he went and today was no exception. Lucas had clearly stated that he didn’t mind the unwanted company of all the strange people, and that he wanted to stay.

Shaking his head in defeat Steve found a bench in clear eyesight of Lucas and sat with a straight back. He observed Lucas play with a shovel, a bucket, a pile of sand and some pebbles. 

It was marvelous to see his boy outside in the sun, away from the crumpled apartment, away from isolation. Sitting with his back turned to Steve made it easy to disappear in the wonder that the boy was. His space-black hair so void of anything else, his soft, colorless skin and those sky-blue eyes. How it was that Steve got anything done during a normal day with such an attention-drawer nearby was something of a mystery to him.

After an hour or so Lucas came over to grab a sandwich. No one of them said anything; they just ate in silence. Or well, as silent as it gets on a playground full of yelling, laughing and whining kids. 

Lucas had been sneaking of again before Steve knew of it, before he could stop him. He thought about rather to call for him or not. They had spent the promised amount of time here, and the noise was slowly getting to his head, a warning of a possible headache later. 

Before he had the chance a pair of solid, stone hard arms locked themselves around him. 

Steve froze for a second, feeling his legs getting lifted up until he couldn’t touch the ground. He tried tentatively to move his upper body, but to no avail. Whoever had him in his/hers grip wasn’t giving an inch.

“Friend Steve, what a pleasure to see thou are safe!” Steve relaxed involuntarily. Could it really be..?

The pressure increased until he yelped for air, forcing Steve back into action.

“T-Thor? ‘Am ‘appy seein’ you too.. But.. Can’t breathe.” 

The blond Asgardian looked his comrade in battle over, confirming that indeed; Steve’s head was turning an interesting shade of reddish/purple. 

“Uh… My apologize, my friend, I simply got carried away it would seem.” Carefully Thor set Steve back down, slowly loosening his grip. 

While concentrating hard on getting air down his lungs, Steve looked Thor over.

He was just as big as Steve recalled him to be, and obviously still blond. He wore his usual battle gear; the silver armor, the red cape and the infamous Mjolnir strapped to his belt. 

His hair had grown longer, but the smile he sent Steve was the exact same as he remembered. 

People around them gaped at Thor with oblivious amazement, some even grapping their cellphones to picture the moment for eternity. Steve swallowed, tugging at his cap with slightly shaking hands. An act not going unnoticed by the Asgardian warrior. 

“Why do you cover, friend Steve? And how come you weren’t to be found amongst out fellow Avengers?” 

If the whisperers hadn’t been going on before, then now it was for sure. 

Steve fought inwardly about what to do. This was one of the crappiest situations he had been caught up in so far in his entire life (which said a lot).

First of all, he was on a public area with lots of people surrounding him with flashing camera’s and voices which only grew louder.

Second, he had his son here, and all the turmoil’s had made Lucas wary. He looked anxiously around in search of something. He stared straight at Steve and ran clumsily in his direction. 

“Thor, it’s… Complicated. Can’t we find somewhere else to..” –Steve got stuck in his thoughts when Lucas clasped his arms around his leg, hiding his face in his pants. Lucas’s shaking form took all of his attention, which might have been why he didn’t see the surprised glim in Thor’s eyes. 

“Steve. Is that your offspring?” Thor sounded uncharacteristically serious.

“A-ha.”

“Where is his mother?”

Steve didn’t look up, but tried to loosen Lucas’ small fingers from his trouser-leg, so far with no success. 

Thor grabbed his shirt, catching his attention without trouble. 

“Where… Is his mother, Steven?” Thor’s gaze was like steel, leaving no room for arguments. 

“I-I-“–Steve stuttered, not knowing what to say. He didn’t intentionally leave Thor in the dark like he had done anyone else, but… How did you tell your friend that his brother knocked you up nearly 70 years ago, and that now, the child in front of him was Loki and his creation? Two males? Was that even normal in Asgard?

Faster than Steve thought possible Thor let him go, only to force Lucas into his strong arms instead, and out of Steve’s reach. 

Thor looked the startled Lucas over, gazing from him to Steve multiple times before nodding to himself.

“Does my brother know?” Steve, who had been inches from trying to pray Lucas free of Thor’s grasp, halted. 

Thor knew Loki better than anyone else on Earth, or any known realm. So how could he even ask?

Instead of answering, Steve shook his head barely visibly; to stunned to even begin forming the right words no less pronounce them out loud. 

“Does any of the others know?” Steve forced himself to answer. Thor had been hell-bent so far, no way he would stop before he got what he asked for.

“No, I… Haven't seen any of them since you left. And… And I don't intent to.”

Thor looked hurt, as if it was him that Steve had personally rejected.

“But why?” Seeing those huge thunder-blue eyes stare directly into his own hurt. Steve had been so sure of himself and his decision of staying the Hell away from Loki and anything which could relate to him. That included the Avengers. Breathing heavily, Steve stepped closer towards Thor, leaving no space in-between them.

“It doesn't matter, okay? Thor, let go of Lucas now, or-“

“Lucas? That is the name you chose for him? Lucas?” Thor seemed to be ignoring Steve for the most part, making Steve feel uncomfortable all over.

He had a bad feeling about this…

“Thor-“

“They have to know. Steven my friend, you have to understand. You have to tell them.” Thor held Lucas close, apparently not noticing how the child in his arms scrummed and wriggled to get free. 

“No Thor, I don’t. Let him go now-“ 

Before Steve got to do anything Thor flew up in the air, a few meter over his head.

“Thor-!” Thor interrupted him.

“Steve, you are in above your head in something far bigger than you can imagine. You will have to trust me on this.”

Steve was mere inches from getting into a panic attack. 

“Thor, please!”

Thor’s features darkened, in a saddening way.

“I am sorry my friend,” he said, and flew off, taking Lucas with him. Steve ran after him, forcing his way through the crowd. Many yelled after him, calling his name. Some grabbed at his cloth, asking him questions he barely heard. He struggled to keep himself from just running through everyone near him. All he could think about right now was his son, and he knew exactly where to find him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those who have commented on this chapter, thanks. Every word means a lot, and especially a thank you to Abba. I know you scolded me, but I'm glad you did. It is because of you that I got to begin this fic again. ^w^


	8. Reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And finally, FINALLY Loki turns up... Phew, it took longer than I expected, so I don't hope it turned out as badly as I fear it did.
> 
> There is an awfully big amount of dialog, which I am not that used to, so let me know how that works. Too much, okay, too little?

Even with the enchantments the serum had given him, Steve found himself breathless when he neared the tallest building in town; the Avengers Tower. 

In his unclear state of mind he noticed how little the tower had changed, if at all; the same large letters, those characteristically large windows…

Not that it mattered. He stormed in through the automatic doors, faintly hearing the voice of JARVIS scanning him on the way in, confirming the identity of whoever came uninvited. 

He was bent forward in the elevator while trying to force himself not to puke, when a repetitive sound, something familiar, kept repeating itself. Trying to overrun the rushing sound of blood in his ears, he pressed the bottom he knew would lead him to the common room. After a few further tries it succeeded. 

“Sir Rogers? Are you quite alright?”

Is was the A.I., Steve realized somewhere in the back of his mind. He took a second to collect himself before answering. 

“Arhh… Yeah.” He knew the inhabitants of Stark (Avengers) Tower would know of his presence by now, that he would run into them, and the owner of the building, sooner rather than later. But that was the least important on his mind. No, trivial matters like that had to be put aside until he got Lucas back. 

An idea formed itself in his head. If anyone, except Tony of course, knew of the whereabouts of anyone here, it would have to be JARVIS. 

“Can I.. ask you a question, JARVIS?” Steve asked, already expecting what the A.I. might answer. 

“Certainly, sir.” 

“Where… Is.. Thor?”, he managed to get out in-between deep breaths. 

The A.I. was silent for longer than Steve liked.

“Sir Rogers, I am not sure it is wise to..-“

“JARVIS-… You have a very unique scanning system cobbled to your driver, correct?”

Again silence. Then-

“Yes, sir.”

“Then scan the infant that Thor brought along, -and don’t deny it. I know he is here.”

A few extra seconds of nothingness. 

“JARVIS, I want you to NOT inform Antony, can you do that for me? I… I might as well tell them on my own.”

“As you wish, sir.” Not for the first time, Steve wondered just how independently the A.I. ‘thought’, and acted on its own. Tony and the others had told him over and over again:   
A.I. meant Artificial Intelligence, only as independent as Tony had made it. But, at moments like these, Steve doubted that entirely. He sighed.

“He already knows, doesn’t he?”

“… I am afraid so, sir.”

“Where is he?”

“…”

“In the common room, right?”

“I am terribly sorry, but yes he is, sir Rogers.” The sincerity in that statement made a small smile linger on Steve’s face.

“Nothing to worry about, JARVIS. I suspected that much.” 

Not that that made the remaining seconds before the elevator doors opened, any less painful… 

A soft ring announced his arrival on the 17th floor. He had barely stepped out of it, and he wished to go already. It felt horrible; to be in the very same room, as he and his former teammates had spent countless hours in, so long ago. Nothing seemed to have changed. 

Except the atmosphere. Even with 3 other people, excluding himself to occupy it, it felt oddly empty. 

Leaning against the nearest wall stood Clint, polishing an arrow while keeping his eyes directly at him.

In a chair not far away sat Bruce.

At first the scientist scrolled through a bunch of papers, then flashed a glance in the direction of the elevator, down at the papers again, and… then up, this time with big, surprised eyes. He took of his glasses, rubbed his eyes and then looked at him again. Bruce still didn’t say a word, but he didn’t close his gaping mouth either. 

And finally.. the couch was occupied by none other than Steve’s favorite red-head; the infamous Black Widow, Natasha Romanoff herself. If she hadn’t been changing the channels of the giant plasma screen so rapidly, then he might have thought she hadn’t known of his arrival just yet. But of course, since when would that happend? Natasha not knowing the whereabouts of her surroundings? 

“So. To what do we owe the pleasure?”

Steve felt a lump in his throat. What was he supposed to say? ‘Hello to you too ‘Tasha. You know, nothing much, just getting my son, who is the reason I left by the way, then I’m off’? 

No. These people had been his friends for years, his comrades in battle. He might not like how these last few years had turned out, but they deserved more than this. Well, something better, at the very least. So when he opened his mouth, prepared to enlighten them in what he thought they needed to know, he had yet to decide exactly what to say (and what NOT to say)…

As it turned out, he needn’t worry at all.

“Steven.”

Steve’s head jerked to his left so fast he heard it crack. Not 20 feet away stood Thor, cradling a sleeping Lucas in his giant arms. 

As if Thor expected Steve to come running to receive his son, which Steve already was, he extended his hand to halt him.

“I give you my word of honor. I will not, and HAVE not hurt him, Steven.” Seeing Thor standing there didn’t seem to effect the others, thought, Steve did see their sight glances at Lucas. Which reminded him..

“Do.. They know?” He coughed carefully, trying to make the lump in his throat disappear, so far without luck. 

“No.”

“And your brother, does he-“

“No, Steven. That is nothing but your decision to make.” Thor looked at the child in his arms. And at the same time, he succeeded in avoiding Steve’s fixated gaze. There was something the Asgardian didn’t say.

“Then why did you bring him here?” Thor winced at that, but he didn’t make a move to answer. Then finally:

“Because.. –“

“Because we asked him to”, Tony added. Steve guessed that he had stepped in from some secret entrance, because he sure as hell didn’t hear him enter from anywhere else.

Steve regarded Tony with a nod, the same way he had always done.

“Anthony.”

“Long time no see, Capsicle!” Tony said, giving Steve the ‘elevator-look’. Tony only ever did that when he tried to figure out something complicated, and mostly that involved something Steve didn’t want to take part of.

Tony stood with his arms slacking down his sides, trying to appear relaxed. Though, his tense shoulders and stern eyes gave him away. 

“Care to explain how that can be your son, and still… Not so much?” Steve closed his eyes momentarily, allowing himself the illusion of total and utter darkness (where he could be alone, away from this mess) for just a few seconds, before reality forced him back.

How many of them actually knew?

After a quick look around where Steve was met by surprised faces, well except Thor and Bruce’s, he had his answer. Thor knew because he had figured it out more or less by himself. And Banner… Bruce and Tony had been awfully close in that lab of theirs, so of course, if one knew so did the other as well. 

And how did they know, well… When Thor arrived J.A.R.V.I.S. must’ve scanned him to, and thereby Lucas too. 

And all the data that the A.I. collected, ended directly in the hands of Tony. 

Since Tony was more the type to gloat (at least a bit, in the start) about his massive intellect, then he must only just have gotten the information, hence the others unawareness. 

“It’s.. Honestly, I have no idea. It all just happened so fast, I-“ And here Natasha interrupted.

“So that’s why you left? Because you girlfriend-“ Tony sent her a smug expression, halfway a laugh which made Steve want to punch him so hard in the face, “-got knocked up-“ 

Tony couldn’t seem to hold it any longer, and burst into a hysterical laughter, “-WHAT Start?” 

At that moment, Steve wondered: was it he or ‘Tasha who wanted to kick Tony the most? A hard question…

“It-, pff, wasn’t..!! No.. girlfriend..! only-“ Quickly as a snake Steve clasped his hand over Tony’s mouth, effectively killing of his manly giggles. The worst part? Steve could feel the blood rushing toward his face, feel how his cheeks heated up uncomfortably.

“What?” She hissed with a slice of demand in her voice. She trotted a tad closer towards Tony and Steve, hands placed firmly on her hips. Anyone why knew ‘Tasha what know that that meant; tell we what I want to know freely, or I’ll make you –and you certainly don’t want that. 

Steve had resisted once… He had learned never to do that EVER again…

Steve was considering how to begin, when Bruce cleared his throat to catch their attention. 

“I think what Tony tried to say, is that it’s a bit more complicated than that.”

Both ‘Tasha and Clint looked skeptical.

“Sorry Doc, but when they taught us biology in school it didn’t seem that complicated to me. The flower and the bee, funny things happen and a baby turns up.” ‘Tasha knocked him over the head while rolling her eyes.

Bruce looked slightly uncomfortable, but tried to explain his point again.

“Yes. Normally when a foster is created, it is done by to pairs of chromosome-pairs. XX and XY, male and female-” Clint dared to interrupt with yet another comment.  
“-As I said, funny stuff leading to a baby.” –which only gave him an extra punch to the head.

“-but… In this case, both Tony and I, were unable to find any traces of any XX-chromosomes any closer than to him grandmothers.”

This made Clint listen, and Natasha stop preparing to punch him again, for whatever comment would come.

“No mother? What- how is that even possible?!” All eyes turned from the startled raven-haired boy in Thor’s arms to Steve and back again. All the yelling had probably woken Lucas from his slumber, explaining why he looked confused and lost. He squirmed in Thor’s hold, making Thor glance towards Steve. He nodded, as if silently deciding that Steve were unlikely to run away, and sat the boy carefully on the floor. Lucas barely touched the ground under him before he clumsily stumbled over in Steve’s awaiting arms. 

“Da!” –he exclaimed directly into Steve’s left ear, hugging him so tight Steve doubted even Thor could wrist him free unless the toddler wanted to.

Steve stared right back at Thor, silently thanking God that his son was unharmed. He hadn’t really suspected Thor of harming Lucas, but a part of him still itched to check, just to make absolutely sure.

A hand landed carefully on his shoulder as not to scare him, making him look up. Tony seemed awfully awkward, scratching his neck and looking anywhere else but Steve.

“Urhh, Capsicle? Could you get up for a sec?” Steve deliberately ignored the nickname and rose on his feet. As he opened his mouth to ask what it was all about, Tony grabbed his shirt and pulled up. –Well, as far up as he could while Steve’s chest was mostly covered by Lucas. 

Steve sighed. He struggled for a sec to hold Lucas with one arm, and covered his scar up with the other.

“So.. Doc is right? You… Uhh, delivered him, huh?” 

Steve didn’t want to feel ashamed, but a small part of him did. Giving birth, however beautiful and astonishing ability that was, was not something expected of a man. Not in the olden days he originally came from, and not in the world he awoke to either. 

Sure, with all the new devices scientists of today could make it was likely to be a possible achievement, but… Some borders would probably never be crossed, at least not yet.

The soft sound of heels against the polished floor caught his attention, and he turned rapidly on his heel to acknowledge the approaching person.

Natasha stood mere inches from him, and only his willpower stopped him from jerking away. How did she do that?! Behind her Bruce and a more hesitant Clint followed suit, gazing over each other’s shoulders to get a glimpse of the raven-haired boy who nearly succeeded in strangling his dad with his tiny arms.

Somehow ‘Tasha caught Lucas’ view, and like that two different kind of blue crashed together, fighting an inner battle that no one else could take part of. 

In the end, Lucas wristed one arm free of his killer-grip, and stretched it in the direction of Natasha.

She lifted one hand to return the gesture when then the toddler suddenly turned stiff. He twisted against Steve’s chest, turning his gaze to somewhere behind Steve before he grabbed onto him again.

Steve tried to pry him free but Lucas was too fast, and in his excitement he nearly bumped his head into Steve’s. 

“Lucas, what-“

“Father!” Steve froze. Lucas had never called him that. He had once tried for daddy, but quickly stuck with da, for some weird unknown reason. 

“And here I thought I would only find one star on this pathetic realm. It seems I have yet another excellent reason to come more often.” 

The silken voice had the same effect on him as it had had two years ago. Steve felt his knees shake just slightly, and forced them to stretch until they locked in place. He steeled himself of as best as he could in those dear split seconds it took to turn around, and stared into the leaf-green irises he loved and hated the most in the whole galaxy.

“Loki.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to zonya35, Ortega7414, RenneMichaels, fnj4life, swaggymailk, KitixUnrest and Words_paint_pictures_that_lasts_forever ! 
> 
> Without your wonderful comments this chapter might not have been done yet. So thanks a lot! ôwô


	9. Reunion Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait! I have chosen to upload what I have so far, an assurance that I have NO intention on abandoning this fanfic! Hopefully this chapter (undone as it is) will push me forward again. 
> 
> Thanks a bunch for the lovely comments, each and every one have been a great help (and warm my heart) so thank you!

“Steven, don’t,” Thor began. Not that he had needed to.

Because Steve didn’t move from the spot. He felt stunned, his heart rabidly beating faster. He had avoided the Avengers to get away from it all, and within the first 10 minutes of his return… He shows up. 

All around him the Avengers got into a defensive stance, ready to lash out should Loki try anything. They had had more than enough of that the last time the Asgardian visited New York, thank you very much. 

Loki took in the sight of the blond Midgardian as he stood there with their son in his arms. He looked anxious, ready to run should the situation turn south. Beautiful. No matter the circumstances, no matter when in time Loki would be lucky enough to get as much as a glimpse of Steve, the mortal always fascinated him. Steven, Captain America, the Star-spangled Man With a Plan, the Man Out of Time who always seemed to be a the right place at the most wanted of times… At least, that was what Loki thought, and subconsciously he moved closer, lifting his hand to lay it against Steven’s cheek. 

Instead, a small hand closed around his fingers, before Steve hastily stepped back, separating the small hand from his. 

“No, Lucas.” Steve’s voice was firm, but he couldn’t stop it from shaking. Not awfully much, but enough. 

Loki smirked, still letting his hand rest where Steve’s face had been seconds before.

“Lucas? From Latin, bended form of Luco, and later on-“

“Don’t! Just… Don’t.” Steve did his best to make it seem like a shrug of his shoulder when he moved Lucas in his arms. In reality, he turned the toddler further away from Loki.

“No need to shout, I can hear you just fine, Steven.” Obviously, the ‘shrug’ hadn’t gone unnoticed by the trickster God, who kept moving closer.

Thor’s armor rattled a bit, and Steve involuntarily looked away. He caught himself midway in the movement, and jerked his head back again. This time, pale fingers stroked his right cheekbone. 

“Shh… Do not fright.” Fright? Why would Loki think, -oh. He was shaking. And for his God, he had no idea how to stop it.

“…Da?” Steve didn’t move, but side glanced down at his son. He rubbed Lucas’ small body encouragingly, doing his utmost to radiate calmness and control. The boy always seemed to know how he felt, and reacted according to it. Therefore he forced himself not to lay too much into the small grip tucking at his sleeve. 

Staring back at Loki, Steve clenched his jaw, forcing himself not to hit the bastard square in the face: he smirked. Loki, who was the course of Lucas’ discomfort, smirked that self-insuring smile for himself.

“What’s so funny?” 

A stroke against his face made a shiver run from the top of his neck all the way down his spine. 

“You.” Steve frowned. 

“I’m not following-“

“You actually believe that I am the one coursing our son’s distress?” Blinking rapidly, Steve jerked his head away from the Asgardian. What?

Loki tilted his head an inch, studying the blond in front of him. Even when he seemed equally confused, angry and scared Steven was still breathtakingly handsome. Maybe even more so under these circumstances. And he didn’t know. For the love of everything holy, there was so much the Midgardian didn’t know! 

“The honor of that deed is entirely yours, Captain dearest. As his carrier you are deeply connected to him, and he gets glimpses of what you feel. Normally it should not be an awful lot that he receives. But you.. with a pulse like a runner after a marathon...? Sure, he feels it. It is likely the only thing important to him at the moment.”

Steve tried to jerk away but the hand followed suit, joined by a warning glare from its owner.

“How do you know that? Never mind, what do you want?” 

That smirk again, but the glare stayed put.

“Oh Steven, don’t be so dull. Why ask when you already know the answer?” 

Steve visibly flinched. He had nothing of value, nothing a prince of another world wanted anyways. Except,-

“NO! I- he’s the only one I have left, you can’t have him!”

Loki had a quick glance of confusion crossing his face, then it turned into amusement.


	10. A Not So Happy Reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So, Steve and Loki finally meet again, but what now? Lets figure it out, shall we?
> 
> And thank you for all the comments, my GOD they have helped me so much! Thank you all, you guys are amazing!

Thinking his panicked words over a mere second later Steve found the flaw in his statement. When Loki arrived he hadn’t known Lucas was even born. Better yet, he didn’t know Steve had been caring a child in the first place! So their son was not his aim. 

Almost as if he could read Steve’s mind, Loki nodded once. 

“You get it now, do you not?” Well, he got that part, but the rest… Loki wasn’t after Lucas, so his actual target was him? 

Before he got to say a word, the ever question-filled voice of Tony butted in.

“Since when has Goldilocks’ evil stepbrother begun fancying Capsicle?” 

Natasha and Bruce stared resignedly at him, joined by a sigh from Clint. 

“Seriously, Stark? Now? Every heard about the word ‘timing’?”

“What? A man’s gotta know that kind of stuff-“

“Tony don’t, please. Not, not now,” tried Bruce, making Tony sulk for himself with his arms crossed over his chest. Bruce looked about ready to comfort him, but stayed put.

Steve was still at a lot of what to do. Everything, being in the tower again, seeing his former teammates and… and Loki, just standing there, saying he had come for him so casually? It was like a grand mix of a dream and a nightmare. 

“Steven?” Thor’s vibrating voice caught him from his own thoughts. He sounded concerned. 

“Locked away… Was to be taken home for a proper trial for his crimes, and punished thereafter, -that’s what you said. Remember that, Thor?” 

“Ay, I do.” 

“Then what is he doing here?” Why was it so difficult to keep breathing evenly? He almost had to force the air down his throat, just to keep the world from spinning out of control. Was he hyperventilating? 

“Things have… changed.” 

“Changed? But wh-“ Steve began, turning towards the Thunder God. He still kept Lucas safe in his grip, even though said boy fought bravely to keep track of his second father, much to Steve’s frustration. A controlled voice interrupted him, however. 

“To be an ounce more accurate, nothing have changed. It have just, how should I put it, stepped clearly into the light?” Lucas succeeded in getting an arm free of Steve’s rather tight hold of him and caught something pale in his small fingers. One of Loki’s digits. Intense green eyes stared straight back at the toddler, then abruptly sneaked over and caught Steve’s own. It overwhelmed him so much he reflexively tried to back away, only to have an arm creep around him to rest on his lower back, hindering his retreat. The new proximity of Loki made his pulse rise and his hands sweaty. His back was forcefully pressed towards the Trickster God, and with one arm fighting desperately to keep Lucas somewhat away from Loki, it left only one arm to push the ravenette away. Not that it helped. The solid chest of Loki didn’t give an inch. Shoot.

Feeling his cheeks flush even more by Loki’s proximity, Steve raised his chin to stare right back at him. 

“Why me? Why not somebody else, anybody else?” 

A not so subtle click ripped Steve away from those ocean-deep orbs of green that made Loki’s eyes, freezing in his spot pressed against the soft leather of Loki’s armor. 

“Yeah, I would like to know that too. Care to step away from Captain and then answer a few questions of mine, Loki?” The gruff almost cold voice of Nick Fury, better known as the director of S.H.I.E.L.D., usually succeeded in making all around him feel small and leave them with a feeling that they are about to get their ears yelled off, and this time it didn’t disappoint either. 

Loki tilted his head ever so slowly to one side in wonder, his eyes never leaving Steve’s for a second. A smirk was about to cross his lips when Thor stepped in front of him, shielding him from Fury. The following noises from behind Steve made him aware that the director wasn’t alone. The many different nearly-silent intakes of breath gave at least 5 or 6 agents away. 

“Director, this is a matter of interplanetary importance,-“

“Interplanetary anything my ass! Why the hell isn’t that thing behind bars, or in a cave or whatever the fuck it is you do with prisoners in Asgard? Huh? I won’t feel sorry for blowing his behind to pieces. All you had to do was ask, no need to bring him over.” Okay, Nick had been angry before. From somewhere far away, a place uncountable miles away from Loki and his unbelievably captivating eyes, Steve knew he had to do something to stop this mess from escalating even further than it already had. But.. Why? Why not keep standing on his feet with his son close to his chest and his heart finally at peace? He hadn’t felt so calm and at ease within himself since… Well, ever. It felt right. So why, oh why did Nick’s disturbing voice keep butting in, trying to destroy all that?

Voices mumbled, some loud enough of bug into his peaceful place-of-mind but not overly so. Then something… changed.

“..-aring at him! Stop it! Now! I will shoot, I don’t care if your papa is a big someone in Asgard, but here I get the final word, understand?! So STOP staring at him, God dammit!” 

Nick was furious, and it gave Steve the chills. He felt so, so dizzy. Lucas tightened his grip on him, finally letting go of Loki to bury in head in the crotch of Steve’s neck. 

Wait, Lucas? Why was he? While the world wouldn’t stop spinning Steve tried to get an overview of whatever happened around him. Turning his head he saw Nick Fury backed up by a good handful of S.H.I.E.L.D. agents, in front of him, away from Loki and Thor, stood the other Avengers. ‘Tasha with a sinister-looking knife, Clint with his full-out stretched bow with an arrow at the ready, Bruce taking strained breaths while clenching his hands so his knuckles looked white and Tony who… Stood with a wrench? How, when had he fetched himself a-, never mind…

Looking over his shoulder, Steve caught a glimpse of Thor’s staggering shoulders. He emitted eternal resignation. 

“I have no reason to fight any of your underlings, Fury. But the All Father will have to hear about this, and he will not be pleased with what has transpired this day. He will want to have a say in this matter as well.” 

Nick didn’t even use a second to think the unsaid threat through before answering the Asgardian.

“Oh yeah? Then we better prepare a banquette for his Royal Highness, don’t we? But until then.” He made a not so subtle gesture for Thor to go away, and the far taller Blond nodded in defeat. 

Loki didn’t say anything when Thor turned on his heel to face him, giving him a certain glance which could have meant anything. Loki gave him a barely visible nod in return before leaning in on Steve, his hair tickling his ear shell. 

“The next time I come will be different. Then I won’t be leaving without you, nor our son. Until then.” Loki’s lips peaked his forehead while his hand ran through Lucas’ hair. He mumbled something to the boy which made him giggle softly and let go of Steve. The absent support left him falling directly onto his butt, all the while Loki kept his green eyes on him. He smiled and then stood by Thor’s side. All eyes were on the Asgardians when suddenly; 

“Heimdal? Let us home.” A mere split-second later a bright fall of colours fell on top of the two, and just like that, they were gone. 

Barely had he seen it, before another, more horrible thought caught up to Steven’s fogged mind; how the hell did he explain himself out of this?!


	11. Upcoming Complications

Steve was right. 

Right after Thor and his problematic brother left the premises, the entire Avengers building turned into a living Hell. Truly, any inferno would be feel proud to be even halfway as lit up as the following many conversations. 

‘Tasha and Clint interfered when the S.H.I.E.L.D.-agents began pointing their weapons at Steve and the child in his arms, all the while Tony and Fury appeared to be competing on whom of them could shout the loudest. 

All the high noises must’ve overwhelmed Lucas who cried hysterically, clinging impossibly tighter around Steve’s shoulders, burying his face into the hollow of his daddy’s neck.  
In the background Bruce sent Steve an apologetic look before sneaking out while on one else was looking. Steve didn’t blame him. If he had the chance, he would’ve bailed from the tower too. 

Steve sighed. He couldn’t go, and he couldn’t stay. If he ran of now, with Lucas on his arm, Loki or even Thor would eventually find him (assuming the Avengers didn’t find him first). If he stayed, his teammates, S.H.I.E.L.D. and the World Counsel would demand answer of him that the either didn’t have or wasn’t willing to give (mostly the former). 

So, from a neutral point of view, he didn’t have that many options left. 

While everyone else in the room seemed preoccupied Steve edged out from the center of the chaos surrounding him and headed for the elevator when-  
“Hold it soldier. Where do you think you’re heading?” Fury’s voice was calm but it didn’t leave much leeway for argument. 

“To my rooms upstairs. I assume they haven’t been leant out yet, Stark?” Tony, who had been readying himself for a smart comeback against Nick for ditching their argument regarding what he could and couldn’t do in TONY’s tower, looked taken aback. But whatever he had in mind of funny replies, whatever he saw in Steve’s stare might just have saved him from saying or doing something he likely would’ve regretted later…

“Yeah, sure. As if I would dare lean out the rooms of a natural icon. I might be reckless Cap, you it’s not that bad yet. No, your things is still there, just like you left them. Well, not your sketchbooks, I might’ve taken a peak, okay a lot of peaks in them, but except of that; untouched. Well, the bedsheets have been changed a few times in your absence, but that’s all. If you need anything then call JARVIS.”

Steve couldn’t keep a tiny smile from moving onto his features. Tony had always made a show out of making Nick Fury know just how much he wasn’t intimidated by him, but he still couldn’t keep the tiniest shiver from affecting his voice. 

“I will. Thanks, Tony.” 

“Sure Cap. Anytime?” If Tony made it sound like a question, then he himself didn’t seem to notice.

Hearing Fury’s protests behind him Steve continued ahead, only relaxing his tense shoulders when he heard the soft ‘ding’ from the elevator doors as they closed. 

“From the heated conversation taking place at the moment between Nick Fury and Mr. Stark I can estimate your destination is likely to be your old quarters, sir?”

The smile Stark had involuntarily put on his lips stayed put when the calming tones that made of JARVIS sounded from the speakers.

“That’d be great.” 

Compared to his earlier trip in that exact elevator, this one felt almost soothing and quick. Faster than he recalled the trip to take, the elevator ‘binged’ again, indicating his destination had been reached. 

The doors went up, opening up to snow-coloured walls with comfortable plush-chairs with stylish small tables in-between them.

On one table rested a PC with a microscopically small amount of dust on top of it, but most other tables were covered with paper sheets in neat stacks, pens and pencils at plenty. 

Colouring pens, painting, brushes and canvases could be found on display on a couple of shelves, though no dust was to found on any of that. 

All was so familiar, yet oddly strange to Steve. He walked straight through his entrance room turned drawing space, through his kitchen and bypassing the bathroom, past the balcony and into the bedroom.

In the start he had been against having a gigantic king-sized bed, but now? Not so much. In fact, he loved it.

He rocked the now carefully crying toddler against his chest while humming quietly for him. He could feel his damp shirt clinging more firmly than it usually did and how warm Lucas’ face had become from his wailing. 

“Hey little guy. It’s okay, I’m right here. See?” Lucas peeked at him through damp eyelashes, not completely looking him in the eyes.

“You’re good, I’m good. I know it’s all new and overwhelming right now, but it’ll get better.”

That caught the tired boy’s attention.

“Promises?” 

Steve could feel his lips spread into a warm smile. 

“I promise.”

“Will..” Lucas began, but halted, trying to avoid Steve’s eyes again.

“Hey, none of that now. Will what? You know you can ask me anything right?”

The littlest nod later, and Steve could see how much Lucas had to fight with himself to ask his question anyways. It would seem something about it made him hold back, like he feared for Steve’s reaction. 

“Father. Will he come soon, too?”

\--

She sat quietly in her quarters, waiting for his judgement. What was he going to do? Would he give her son, their son another chance? A last one?

She let out a breath she hadn’t known she had been holding. Her hands were shaking anxiously, oh for the love of Freya, please let him listen!

She heard a soft knock on her door and allowed whoever it was to step inside. It was a servant girl. 

His Royal Highness Odin had summoned her. And she stood. Whatever the outcome; the endgame was now.

Would she get a chance to redeem her son, her little raven haired, mischievous boy? For all she knew, this might be his only hope. The last one. 

As she walked down the halls, not noticing the bowing servants, guards or warriors in the slightest, she thought about her conversation with Loki again.

After having been told by Thor what his brother had said of having found his Amandum, she had had to check for it herself. His Amandum? Truly? Could her luck have turned at last?

Her Amandum was not to be found on his throne, which was where he could usually be found. Instead he stood leaning towards a large window showing the kingdom Asgard in its vast beauty. 

The yellow-orange colours of a slowly fading day covered most of the folds and wrinkles on Odin’s ancient features, giving Frigga a glimpse of the man she meet for what felt like eons ago. 

The man she fell in love with. 

The man she still loved, even when she disagreed with his decisions (which happened more often than most were lead to believe) or when the crown became too heavy a burden to carry on his own.

As if he sensed her presence he rotated towards her and she saw how a spark ignited in his irises when his blue eyes met hers. 

“My queen.”

“My king.”

It wasn’t strictly necessary for them to use labels with each other, but from day one this had been a silly little thing just for the two of them. Well, to be fair, it had started with her calling him crown prince and him following it up by calling her his princess, but who except them even remembered that anymore?

“You must have heard the news about our son, Loki by now?” Odin asked, no hint in his stoic voice of how he felt about the subject.

“Yes, I have. Are there any truth to it, my love?” He stared right back at her, seeing how she longed for hope, how she refused to give up on her lost child without having tried out   
every possible solution a million times first. He let out a breath he didn’t know he had been holding back. Maybe he was anticipating his reply too?

“It would seem so. Thor has informed me of his authenticity. As faith would have it, it is a shield mate of his. The leading defender in the avenging group protecting Midgard, Thor speaks highly of him.”

He could see how every word leaving his mouth got picked and pecked, twisted and turned to make sure she was truly hearing him right. 

“We should be joyous. Not only this turn of events has given us reason to celebrate these great tidings.” That successfully caught her interest.

“Uh? How so?” 

“The family is expanding, amia.” 

She blinked like a baffled owl at him before quickly collecting herself. 

“Is… Is his Amandum with child?” She knew Loki had the power to make himself able to carry an offspring, but she felt confident in her own skills to feel assured she would have known if that had been the case. 

“I misspoke, my dear. He already has a child. A son.” From the negatively confused expression on her face, he elaborated:

“It is Loki’s son, our grandson.” Somehow she managed to become even more bewildered than before, and he understood her hopelessness. 

“But how-“

“That has yet to be explained. Which is why I am arranging for the both of us to arrive in Midgard the upcoming day.”

Frigga bit her lip in a rare sign of insecurity. A bad habit she had thought long gone. It didn’t go past Odin’s eye either.

“You seem to disagree.”

The golden-haired woman debated with herself for a few more seconds before seemingly coming to an agreeable solution.

“That does not strike me as the right decision, my own.”

That was unexpected.

“Do you now wish to meet your grandchild, a possible successor to the thrown?” Her glare could make braver men fall to their knees, begging for mercy. It didn’t make Odin bow   
under her intimidating wrath, at least not on the outside.

“Do not misunderstand me unnecessarily, my king. I would merely suggest that we wait till the next day after tomorrow. To give him some time to collect himself. If what you say is true, then he might not have expected to see Loki as soon as he did. He might just think it insulting for us to drop down on top of his head so shortly after being confronted with his Amandum, demanding answers. Do we even know if he knows what an Amandum is?” 

Odin’s lack of response was answer enough for the both of them.

“Very well. The next day after tomorrow we will visit Midgard, but we will not delay out trip any further.”

Having heard enough Frigga bowed her head, both an admission of acceptance, and to make known that she wished to retread to her champers. Before she went, she turned to gaze at her husband, her king. Her Amandum. 

“What is the name of this Midgardian?”

A short pause.

“Steven. Steven Rogerson.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... Apparently it takes the shift of a year for me to get my ass kicked hard enough to produce a new chapter huh? No, I try to make the chapters come faster. Who knows, maybe this year is more writer-friendly for me? 
> 
> I hope you like it. Oh, and let me know what you think of Frigga. She might have turned a bit out of character, but I just really REALLY didn't want her to be left out of the story! >w<
> 
> Happy New Years, everyone ^o^
> 
> \--  
> Oh, and Amia, the nickname Odin gives to Frigga is simply an endearment made up from the Italian: 'mia', meaning 'my' (in this case refering to: my own, my love, my heart, though that last part is inplicit in the word when I use it. Also, like the word: Amandum, Amia is part of an ancient, somewhat extinct language used by a pre-dominaning race long gone).


End file.
